


Retribution: A Long Time Coming

by MirainaBlackhart



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Androids (Detroit: Become Human), Angst, Badass Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Friendship, Connor Needs A Hug, Drama, Established, Flashbacks, M/M, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Minor Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Slow Burn, healthier Carl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21614653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirainaBlackhart/pseuds/MirainaBlackhart
Summary: Connor and Markus were among a number of individuals who have been trained to become highly-skilled assassins since their childhood days up until their teenage years. After a few years of being out in the field, Markus finally decided to walk away from a life of violence and death. It hadn’t been easy, but he’s now contented with his new life where he’s surrounded by good friends and a father-figure.On the other hand, Connor had risen to become the best in their ranks. But over the years, the endless cycle of following orders, survival and death has started to take its toll on him. After he is discovered to have deliberately gone against a mission directive and is ordered to be hunted down, he knows that the only way he comes out of this alive is to bring down the very organization that made him who he is now. But the question is, can he do it alone?
Relationships: Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 102





	1. Ambush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This fanfic essentially evolved from the convoluted mess that is “From Strings Liberated”. I decided to take it down since the plot started falling apart when I was reviewing the outline again. And now I opted to give it another shot in which it’s a lot more straight-forward. I also removed confusing sub-plots that don’t really help in pushing the main plot. Additionally, some character roles were totally changed. I’m honestly a bit nervous of putting this out as a second try. But hopefully, there’ll be some people who would be interested in reading it and giving it a chance. :)
> 
> If anyone is curious to know their ages, Markus is 27 and Connor is 25.

Markus enters his room, ready to finally call it a night after working through a good amount of progress on his current project in the art studio. Just as he opens his closet to grab a change of clothes, his senses are suddenly on edge. And a few seconds later, he hears the crack of a gunshot.

Not wasting any time, he dashes towards the window—the sound had originated somewhere nearby, outside. By the time he has the windows open, he’s surprised to see David—the manor’s appointed butler and Carl’s caretaker, who apparently appears to double as his bodyguard—standing on Carl’s balcony to the left, holding a gun out to the direction of a nearby tree. He then shifts his aim towards the ground just as Markus hears a thud, followed by a grunt of pain.

He quickly glances to where it came from and sees the silhouette of a man—partially hidden and leaning against the tree, holding a hand to his shoulder. Markus guesses that he might have taken a nasty fall when he was shot by David. He probably didn’t see that coming.

A beat later, the intruder seems to have regained his footing and based on how the man is angling his body, Markus knows he’s about to flee and escape.

That won’t do.

He acts on impulse—bracing his hands on the banister and jumping over it. His feet land on a ledge a few feet below and he uses the momentum to make another jump onto the ground, rolling into a crouch and then finally standing up.

The intruder has already started sprinting away, but he can see a subtle limp. He can still catch him.

He notices a movement by the corner of his eye and he looks up to see David bracing himself to follow as well, but he stops him.

“No! Stay with Carl!”

A hesitant pause from David lets Markus know that the other man seems to be contemplating whether it is wise to follow his instruction or not. But he eventually relents. With that settled, Markus readies himself to give chase.

“Markus!” David calls out.

He halts altogether and looks back up to see David raising up his arm—the same one with a gun in hand.

“Here,” David says as he tosses his gun at him, “you might need it!”

Markus catches the gun with ease and gives David a nod of thanks. After which, he hurries to take off after the intruder. Belatedly, he realizes David isn’t surprised by his actions at all, which makes him wonder if the man _knows_ about who he was. But if that’s the case, then that means Carl would also know, right?

He’ll have time to ponder on that later. Right now, he has someone to chase down.

Due to the intruder having a head start, it takes a few minutes of running, scaling walls and jumping over ledges and various other obstacles before he finally pins down the man. While they ended up scuffling around for a bit, he starts wondering how the man had managed to slip past all the security personnel. It’s fortunate that David seems to be very efficient with his job.

But then his thoughts take a sudden halt when he finally gets a good look at who the intruder is. Admittedly, the familiarity of the person’s face initially confuses him. To be fair, it’s rather jarring to see someone again who you remember as a teenager, after a decade. But he would know those brown eyes anywhere.

“Connor…?”

The other man is peering at him with a look that horribly reminds him of that _one_ time when they had been in a similar position but with a knife sticking out of Connor’s side. He quickly jerks back in reflex. Now’s not the time for an unwelcome panic attack.

He sees Connor gingerly sitting up—now that there’s no longer an additional weight pinning him down anymore—hand going up again to his bleeding shoulder. He looks…exhausted. And it’s not a usual look that Markus expects to see on the other man. He remembers Connor always appearing prim and sharp, never letting his guard down. But now, he just looks like he has had enough—for lack of a better term—with whatever it is he’s supposed to be doing.

He has so many questions he wants to ask Connor right now, but hearing the rush of incoming footsteps has him turning his head to where the sound of footfalls is coming from. When he gets a glimpse of the first person, he initially thinks that it’s one of the estate’s security detail. But it takes him a second to notice that the person’s uniform is eerily similar to what the men—that had been ordered to take him out five years ago when he finally decided to turn away from a life of killing and violence, had been wearing.

It takes another second for him to realize that this is an ambush. He immediately gets up and a quick glance at Connor’s look of surprise tells him that he hadn’t been expecting the arrival of these armed men as well. His expression suddenly changes to something Markus is more familiar with—a look of pure focus and concentration. He shifts his eyes to him and Markus understands what he’s attempting to communicate—that they need to move quickly and find cover.

Fortunately, there’s a cluster of trees nearby and Markus makes a mad dash behind a trunk to take cover. Connor does the same and hides behind a different tree a few feet away from him, just as the men start firing at them. They each pull out their respective guns at the ready.

Markus knows they’re at a certain disadvantage here—they’re caught off-guard, backed into a corner and Connor’s wounded. But he also knows that they can ultimately get out of this problem if they’re working together. They just need a proper assessment of the situation.

“How many did you see?” Markus asks, taking a careful peak his right to see that the men had stopped randomly shooting at them and seem to be approaching their current position cautiously.

“Around seven or eight.” Connor immediately answers him. And getting to hear his voice again after all these years does things to his heart that he refuses to acknowledge right now that maybe he’ll choose to examine later. Though his voice obviously sounds more mature now, it still retained that pleasant lilt that he’s quite familiar with.

Markus ends up berating himself. Now’s definitely a bad time to get all nostalgic and distracted as he hears the rustling of leaves by his left. Thankful that his lightning reflexes are still intact, he manages to quickly grab the first assailant’s arm and rifle with both of his hands and pulls hard, taking the man by surprise. Connor doesn’t hesitate and kills the man with one shot to the head.

After that, everything happens in quick succession. Before the second person behind the first one could react, Connor immediately dashes and slides across the ground and lands another shot—this time, between the man’s eyes. At the same time, Markus aims his gun towards the third attacker, who is now standing where Connor had previously been, and greets him with his own shot to the throat. The man chokes on his own blood before falling to the ground with a dull thud.

It suddenly registers in his mind that this is the first person he has killed in a span of five years, though he can certainly chalk it up to self-defense much later on. But he doesn’t have the time to ruminate on the fact that he has just broken his own promise of swearing off this way of life.

Markus quickly retracts his arms and goes safely back into cover just as a bullet is fired and fortunately misses him. He immediately goes back out to return fire but he unexpectedly sees a mask of shock on the other person’s face—eyes and mouth wide open—just as a bullet goes through his right skull and shoots out to the other side.

A sniper shot. Someone seems to be helping them. Who?

But he doesn’t have the time to contemplate on that as another one has decided to forego his gun and was quickly rushing towards him and ends up barreling his whole body into him. The force of the action knocks the gun he was holding out of his hands and he starts losing his balance but he manages to pivot his foot in the right direction to stop him from falling to ground altogether.

He hears two consecutive gunshots—one nearby and the other seems to have come from the unknown sniper again. At the same time, he’s currently blocking a few blows that his attacker has been sending out. He manages to find an opening and lands his right elbow to the man’s sternum, just as Connor lends him a hand by sticking his boot knife into the man’s throat from the side.

They both turn to the final man a few distance away, who seems to be aware that he’s the only one remaining—if his hesitation in approaching them is anything to go by. But before he can take an action, he is shot down by a rain of bullets as Markus sees the estate security finally arriving.

He’s about to let out a sigh of relief, knowing that they’ve survived the unexpected ordeal, when he suddenly notices the gaze of the head of the security detail—Allen—honing in on Connor. He quickly moves to block Connor from their direct line of sight and extends both his hands in front of him, palms out.

“Wait! Don’t shoot!”

“Move aside, Markus.” Allen tells him in a no-nonsense manner, “This man was reported to have been in the process of attempting an assassination on your life before David managed to stop him. He needs to be detained.”

Markus whips his head back at Connor in disbelief.

Looking back, he acknowledges what his gut instinct had been telling him—that he himself is the target, not Carl. But by the time he had discovered who the assassin is, his mind had automatically come to the conclusion that it’s an impossibility—that Connor wouldn’t have willingly chosen to kill him, right? But who was he kidding? Connor didn’t have a choice. None of them did. He’d chosen to walk away before and he’s still being hunted down until now.

He sees guilty eyes staring back at him before Connor breaks eye contact and looks away.

What confuses him now though is—why had there been an ambush? Something else is going on. He needs to talk to Connor to find out what it is, but he has to clear things up first.

He turns to face Allen again.

“Allen, look.” He starts, “If he was really planning on killing me, then he wouldn’t have helped me take down these men—” He gestures to the fallen bodies on the ground, “Let him explain his side.”

At this point, Allen and his team have thankfully put down their rifles, which gives Markus a small sense of relief.

However, “An attempt is still an attempt,” Allen points out, “We need to follow protocols. He’ll be allowed to explain later.”

He then signals his men to approach Connor and Markus can’t help his own reaction of attempting to stop them from proceeding.

But then he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Markus, it’s fine.” Connor tells him.

After which, he simply walks forward from behind him and willingly gives up his gun as two of Allen’s men take hold of each of his arms to lead him back into the estate premises.

Markus doesn’t miss the look of pain that crosses Connor’s face due to the wound on his shoulder and he decides to follow closely behind them until they reach the apartment building that houses most of the estate’s security personnel. He knows that they utilize one of the floors there as a detention area, usually for random people who get caught trespassing into the estate property or in more extreme cases such as tonight, those who dare attempt an assassination.

At least the rooms here are much more comfortable than the ones they have in police stations. But it still doesn’t sit well with Markus that his friend—that he hasn’t seen for a long time—is currently locked up in one of the rooms with two men standing guard by the door.

The first thing he decides to do then is to request for a medical kit.

Allen furrows his brow and asks him, “You’re injured?”

“No, it’s not for me.” He replies.

Now that’s a look of surprise that he doesn’t get to see on Allen’s face, until now that is. The others seem to have various expressions of bafflement and confusion on their faces as well.

Allen quickly recovers though and he’s all business-like again when he tells him, “One of our medics can take care of that.”

“I know.”

“Besides,” Allen continues, “security protocols dictate that as the target of an assassination attempt, you’re not supposed to be communicating or in direct contact with your would-be killer.”

Markus is well aware of that. He’s not stupid. But he resists the urge to give a smart-ass retort. He knows that the other man is just doing his job and he means well, so he doesn’t really want to antagonize him.

“I know that as well. But you’ve already confiscated his gear, so he’s technically unarmed. And—it’s not like I can’t defend myself.”

Allen seems to be acknowledging that last part before his gaze sharpens and he tells him, “I take it you know him well.”

“…Yes.”

But then he realizes what assumptions Allen might end up having due to that fact.

“I’m not planning on letting him escape if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That’s not it. You know Carl won’t approve of this.”

Well, if he’s moved on to worrying about that, it means he’s almost managed to convince him.

“Let me handle explaining the situation to Carl. He’ll understand.”

He gets worried when Allen stays silent in contemplation for a few more seconds.

“Please.”

A beat later—he finally acquiesces, “Fine.”

* * *

Markus immediately sees Connor turning his head from where he was staring straight ahead and looking at him in mild surprise when he enters the room. He’s sitting on a spartan bed, hands clenched into fists extended in front of him. Markus closes the door behind him.

“You still do your coin tricks?” Markus asks as he walks forward and puts down the medical kit he was holding on the lone table in the room. There are also two chairs—one on each side of the table.

Connor shrugs and pockets his quarter coin.

“You know I don’t like being idle.”

That he does.

“I didn’t expect them to send you as the medic.” Connor says, after he notices the med kit and looks back up at him in inquiry.

“They didn’t. I just managed to convince Allen to let me.”

“Figures. You always have such ease in getting people to listen to you.”

Markus blinks, not expecting to see the subtle upturn of his lips. He heads inside the small bathroom to wash his hands and when he gets back out, Connor has already partially taken off his bloodied coat and dress shirt.

He forces himself not to think about how Connor has put on a lot more muscle over the decade. He naturally has a slim frame, but he looks a lot leaner now.

He starts off by cleaning the area around the wound while he contemplates whether it’ll be a good idea to ask about Connor’s mission. Eventually, he decides against it. He’s not here to interrogate the other man and he settles for something else that has been bothering him ever since they were attacked.

“Perkins’ men—Why did they ambush you?”

There’re a few seconds of silence when Connor doesn’t immediately answer and Markus’ thoughts start drifting off, wondering how Connor would have fared if he had faced them alone. He shudders and decides that he’d rather not think about it.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Connor finally responds, “but I have a hunch.”

“What is it?”

He moves on to cleaning the wound itself.

“I lied to Amanda about a previous mission. And she might have discovered it.”

Markus stops and blinks in surprise at how offhand and casual Connor is being in talking about doing such a ballsy move.

“What exactly happened during that mission?”

“I never killed the targets, but I reported otherwise.”

Markus stops what he’s doing altogether as he comes to realize something and steps back to look at Connor in the eye.

“Were you actually planning to do the same thing tonight?”

There’s that look of guilt again that he saw earlier.

“Yes…” Connor replies, “But I suppose it’s pointless now.”

Connor glances away from him for a moment before looking back up at him with worry in his eyes.

“My targets during that mission—a woman and a child,” Connor tells him, “They were planning to escape and go in hiding by coming here around five months ago. Are they…?”

And it suddenly clicks in Markus’ mind—Kara and Alice.

He recalls how the two arrived at the estate around the time Connor has mentioned, both shaken and had obviously come from a bad ordeal.

They had heard about a boarding school that Carl has established around three decades ago—The Manfred Institute for Learning. It’s a place for children who were involved in child trafficking or kidnapping cases or even simply those who were abandoned that either have no known surviving family members or have no other place to go to.

Kara had saved Alice from CyberLife’s research facility in Ferndale. But Markus knows it’s just a façade. In reality, it’s a training facility headed by Amanda Stern—the ruthless leader of an organization of assassins, Cypher. It’s the exact same place he and Connor were trained all those years ago.

And knowing that Alice would have ended up like them if Kara hadn’t managed to get her out makes him very sympathetic to the young girl. She’s such a sweet child and he can’t imagine her going through what they had gone through—being forced to be stripped of their emotions, morals and freedom.

And Markus perfectly understands what Connor is asking him.

“Don’t worry,” He says reassuringly, “They’re very much safe and doing well.”

Connor lets out a small sigh of relief.

“That’s good then.”

The look of exhaustion on Connor’s face when he had tackled him down earlier in night suddenly flashes in Markus’ mind. And he realizes that maybe—just like himself—the other man has also become tired of living an endless cycle of following orders, survival and death.

But going back to Connor’s current predicament, Markus remembers that Kara had gone to a hospital just yesterday to visit her uncle that had fallen ill. Rose—the one who manages everything related to the institute—was initially against it, worried that it might endanger Kara if she was discovered to still be alive.

Kara managed to convince Rose in the end, though she had to comply with Rose’s proposal of getting a new haircut and a change of hair color. Additionally, Rose had her wear colored contact lenses and even sent a bodyguard to accompany her.

However, sometimes even being too careful and prepared is still not enough when faced with unexpected circumstances.

“I have an idea how they might have been discovered.” Markus says, while dressing Connor’s wound. And he proceeds to tell him what Kara had recounted during her hospital visit.

Everything had initially gone smoothly but by the time Kara was about to leave, her past colleague in CyberLife was coincidentally in the hospital lobby as well. She unfortunately saw and recognized Kara despite her new look. And since Kara isn’t used to dealing with these types of situations, she had been caught flat-footed, momentarily forgetting how she should have reacted. Her assigned bodyguard tried to salvage the situation by apologizing to the woman and purposely calling Kara a different name. But the damage had been done.

“We can assume that her colleague ended up gossiping back at the facility and it could have somehow reached Amanda.” Markus adds.

“That would certainly make sense. She has eyes and ears all over that place.” Connor says, just as Markus finishes patching him up.

“There. Good thing the bullet didn’t graze deep or else you would’ve needed stitches. It’s… probably gonna scar though.” He tells Connor, while packing up the med kit.

Connor simply shrugs and says, “It’s nothing new.”

Markus remembers a time when he could also easily shrug off any thoughts of worry whenever they would get injured during their training days or when he ended up getting wounded after a difficult mission out in the field.

But hearing Connor so casually brushing it off now like he couldn’t care any less certainly leaves Markus feeling quite unsettled and he decides to file away his concern for later.

He goes off to quickly wash his hands once more and calls out to Connor, “Not that I’m doubting your skills—just curious, but how did David manage to land a shot on you?”

Worried that his friend hasn’t given him a reply after a few seconds have passed, he pokes his head out of the bathroom to see that Connor has slipped back into his dress shirt and is currently fixing his coat.

“Connor…?”

Connor pauses in pulling the sleeve of dress shirt in place before eventually continuing and finally answering him, “I just got distracted. And he’s certainly done his job well.”

That’s Connor obviously deflecting. But Markus doesn’t push. Not now, at least.

Instead, he tells him, “Look, I’ll talk to Carl and convince him that you’re not a danger to anyone here. That way, you won’t have to be stuck in this room.”

He grabs the med kit from the table and is about to leave when Connor asks him, “How can you be so sure that I’m not?”

There’s that look again, but it’s now mixed with a small hint of uncertainty.

Markus can give him a myriad of reasons—that Kara, Alice and him are still alive, that he’s not one to hesitate, that he wouldn’t have been detained here at all if he had been a hundred percent focused on his mission, that he keeps seeing the guilt and exhaustion in his eyes. But in the end, he decides to go for one simple truth.

“Because I trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably botched up the security protocols and the wound treatment stuff. If there are some glaring oddities that totally don’t make sense even in a fictional setting, please let me know and I’ll work on remedying them.
> 
> Next chapter will be in Connor's POV.
> 
> Lastly, thank you for giving this fanfic a shot. :)


	2. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor reminisces about his childhood and how Markus ended up befriending him.

_ “Because I trust you.” _

What Markus had told him earlier keeps on looping in his head on repeat every few minutes or so. He’d said it with full certainty, though Connor hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it at first—disbelief being his first reaction. But there had been no traces of hesitation nor doubt whatsoever in Markus’ mismatched eyes. And his initial skepticism gave way to a comforting sense of relief. It had felt like a balm soothing his soul to know that Markus still  _ trusts _ him despite a decade has past of not seeing each other, despite the extraordinary circumstances of how they had finally met again—a botched mission, a short scuffle, and an unexpected ambush.

But when has everything that has to do with their lives ever been normal anyways? Even their friendship had started out in a rather unconventional manner.

Lying on the bed and idly staring up at the ceiling without anything to do, Connor can’t help his thoughts drifting to memories of their first encounters back when they were still children.

His earliest recollection of his childhood hadn’t been basking in the care and affection of a parent. He can’t even pull a face from his memory. All he can remember was that he’d been passed around from one foster care to another every few months or so. No one really wanted to bother with him. He’d hear the adults say he was too strange, too anti-social, a loner. Other children never approached him for the same reasons. They concluded that he wouldn’t fit well into a proper home.

Although, there had been a short period of time in one of the foster homes where the children were less averse to him and they had convinced him to join them for a game of hide-and-seek. He’d managed to squeeze himself into a well-hidden cupboard and ended up winning the round. After around a week or two of being the constant winner or easily locating the other players when he’s “it”, they’d decided that he wasn’t fun to be with anymore. He didn’t mind. He was used to it, though the change had been welcomed while it lasted.

It wasn’t until he was around the age of nine that his life suddenly took a drastic turn. He’d been staying in the next foster home for just under two months when he was told that he was being transferred to another place. Initially, he’d been mildly surprised. It usually took at least six months to a year before he would need to move again.

It was only much later when he was brought into a building and led to a small, white-walled room which appeared to be a waiting area that he started thinking that maybe he wasn’t going to end up in a new foster home after all. There had been four other children who looked to be around the same age as him in the room at that time, each wearing an expression of uneasiness and fear. He seemed to be the only one unbothered by the whole situation.

A woman who seemed kind and unassuming enough had entered the room and reassured them with a smile that they didn’t need to be afraid, that the place they were in will be their new home and that they will be taken good care of—if they do well.

But he’s known for a long time now that it was merely a strategy to let people with a warm and friendly demeanor conduct that initial meeting with the children they recruit to give them a false sense of security.

As a curious child, he had asked the woman,  _ “Do well in what?” _

_ “In your studies of course.” _ She had replied with a smile that had seemed quite fake and insincere to him.

They were eventually shown their own rooms, fed properly as promised, and were even taught like how children would normally be educated in school. Basically, it was just as the woman had said, with a few odd differences. It had only been the five of them. Other than their teachers, they never interacted with anyone else. The environment had also seemed too controlled—They weren’t allowed to leave the area of the building that they had been confined in.

He and another child—who he unfortunately couldn’t remember the name of anymore—had ended up asking one too many times as to why their situation had been the way it was. But they had always gotten the same answer.

_ “You’ll find out soon. For now, just do as you’re told and everything will be fine.” _

Sometimes, one of the girls would end up crying and asking if she could go home, only to be told,  _ “But this is your new home now.” _

It went on like this for around a month, with the five of them falling into and getting used to the routine. And then came the aptitude test. The same woman who had met them the first day gave them a reminder of what she said—that they had to do well. If they pass, they will move on to the next phase.

The same girl who had wanted to go home had timidly asked,  _ “What if we don’t?” _

_ “You wouldn’t have to know if you do well, right?” _ The woman had replied with that same fakeness of a smile.

They had been separated after that and he never found out what had happened to the other three who failed to meet the standard score. Only he and another girl—Traci, had passed with flying colors. And he discovered much later that he’d gotten one of the highest scores among all those who have taken the test over the years.

Although Connor had a very reserved personality, he wasn’t as naïve as how a typical child of his age would be. He already knew then that nothing about the place, the people, or the situation had been normal at all. The way their teachers had interacted with them had seemed too clinical and detached. And he had started to feel the uneasiness finally creep in when he realized that he wasn’t entirely prepared for what might come next.

He was later proven correct when he found out what the next phase of their “studies” was supposed to be. Other than the standard general education, additional lessons had included learning about different weapon types, ways to incapacitate people, first-aid and other things that children don’t normally learn at such an early point in their lives. They were even taught the basics of self-defense and different fighting styles.

He’d been honestly shocked at first and he’d also admittedly felt a smattering of fear—He was still just a child back then. He was certainly used to being ignored and left alone, but no one ever resorted to physically bullying him so he never had any firsthand experience with violence at all. And all of a sudden, he was learning how to physically hurt and attack other people against his own volition. It was just too jarring and conflicting. But the trainers knew how to do their job well—which was to desensitize them to the disturbing nature of it all. 

Other than him and Traci, they had trained together with another boy and girl during that phase. By the time six months had passed, he’d felt as if he wasn’t the same person he was before he came to the facility. He could already shoot a gun, though he’s still not used to the recoil. He could occasionally hit the bulls-eye with a well-placed knife throw. And he could easily win a sparring match against the other boy in their group.

And up until that point, they still weren’t told the purpose of why they had to learn all those knowledge and skills. All he knew was that he was trapped in that place with no way to escape—not that he had anywhere to go or return to. But he’d remembered what the woman had told them—As long as he did well, he’ll be fine.

When the trainers eventually deemed them ready, they were moved to a new area where they could finally train together with the older trainees.

It was one normal training day when he decided to work on his knife throwing skills. There had only been one other trainee—a tan-skinned boy—currently practicing in the area, two boards away. On initial observation, the other boy seemed to be focusing on getting consecutive bulls-eye hits and Connor had felt a surge of determination that he had to work on achieving the same.

When he made the first hit, it had landed on the area outside the bulls-eye and he concluded that he needed to do better. He then noticed that the other boy had stopped with what he’s doing. Taking a glance in his direction, he’d been surprised to see mismatched eyes—one blue and one green—looking at him in mild curiosity. That had been the first time he saw Markus.

For a few weeks, they encountered each other in the training area while practicing different skills. The other boy seemed to be quite aloof and emotionless most of the time. Additionally, he’d discovered that Markus was one of the most skilled in his age group—Markus being two years older than him—based on the scoreboard showing everyone’s progress and ranking so far. Because of that, he had made it a point to use the other boy’s score as a standard for his own progress.

After a while though, the other trainees—and probably Markus himself—had become aware of the ongoing seesaw between their scores. Somehow, they had inadvertently ended up being “rivals”—based on the whispers he would sometimes hear amongst themselves, despite the fact that he and Markus haven’t spoken a word to each other the entire time. It hadn’t exactly been Connor’s goal and neither had it been Markus’, if his look of indifference was anything to go by. But it was what it was.

However, an incident during a heated obstacle course race was what led to things taking an unexpected turn.

* * *

_ Connor had been filled with the adrenaline and determination to win the race that he had failed to notice someone else deliberately pushing pass him, causing him to lose his balance and due to the momentum, he knew right then and there that there was no way he’s going to be able to avoid taking a nasty hit on one of the obstacles to the side. _

_ He had braced himself for the impact, tucking his neck to avoid hitting his head and possibly getting a concussion. But instead of the expected pain when hitting a wooden panel, he felt himself colliding with another body as he heard someone utter a pained, “Ow…” _

_ By the time he had finished reeling from the impact, the first thing he saw when he looked up was the smirking face of the blonde boy who had pushed pass him, standing smugly by the finish line. _

_ “I win this time, new kid.” He had taunted Connor, before making his leave and heading out of the area. _

_ The next thing he saw were the intrigued and curious stares from the other trainees and a few trainers alike. At the same time, he realized that his legs have ended up awkwardly sprawled on top of someone else’s after he had hit the other person and had landed on his side. _

_ He quickly got up, despite how his body was still shaking from the fall. When he turned around to find out who he had crashed into, he was ultimately surprised to know that it had been Markus. _

_ Connor was initially confused by how he managed to hit the other boy. He hadn’t seen Markus in his peripheral even when he’d noticed the blonde boy one second too late. Unless… _

_ “Did you just…?” He started to ask, but stopped himself from continuing, suddenly unsure if his assumption had been correct. _

_ Markus looked at him with a wince as he gingerly stood up from the ground. He briefly made a careful glance around them and Connor did the same, noticing that most of the earlier onlookers have already left. _

_ He hadn’t been sure if was for his own sake or the other boy had just been concerned about accidental eavesdroppers, but Markus had made sure that only Connor would hear his reply. _

_ “You were caught unaware. You would have hit yourself pretty hard if I didn’t try to stop your momentum.” _

_ The first thing that registered in Connor’s mind was the fact that Markus had called him out on his lapse in focus—He had been so close to the finish line that he’d accidentally let his guard down. He knew he had to be careful of sabotage attempts much like what just happened. It was part of their training. And he’d failed, due to his own carelessness. He decided that he hates the feeling of failure. He also hated the fact that the boy in front him had been witness to it. _

_ “You didn’t have to do that.” _

_ He hadn’t meant to sound so spiteful and he never saw Markus’ look of surprise at his reaction as he quickly turned around and left in indignation and embarrassment. _

_ When he had managed to calm himself down and think things through, Connor came to the realization that he shouldn’t have reacted the way he did. It didn’t even occur to him to thank Markus for taking the brunt of the fall for him—of which, the reason he had done so still eluded him. _

_ Perhaps, it was why he finally decided to approach him a few days later during a free day to properly apologize and say thanks, despite the fact that they weren’t allowed to interact outside of training. _

_ “I’m sorry for how I reacted the other day. I just— I’m not—” _

_ He had struggled in trying to explain himself and Markus must have seen how frustrated he was at the moment and simply told him, “It’s fine,” with a small hint of a smile. _

_ Then Markus had taken a subtle glance around them as if to check if there are people milling about that they have to watch out for. _

_ “Come on. I know a place where we can talk without eyes following our every move.” Markus had told him, with a glint in his eyes. _

_ Logically, he knew he shouldn’t go with Markus since this certainly spells out trouble and he didn’t want to get in any sort of trouble this soon. But he couldn’t pretend that he’s not curious at all, so he followed Markus through a number of corridors—both of them carefully avoiding getting caught, until they reached what appeared to be a dead-end with a door on the left side. _

_ As they went through the door, Connor had been surprised to see that it was a small open-air area—enough to fit just around six to eight people and of which, its construction was never finished—based on the protruding metal rods in the concrete landing they were on.  _ _ They’re situated on a relatively high enough floor so, it’s not really an option for an escape plan. _ _ They had been situated on a relatively high enough floor, so it wasn’t really an option for an escape plan. _

_ Markus had plopped himself down on the concrete, crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back to gaze up at the sky. Connor simply decided to sit down—knees propped up and forearms encircled beneath his thighs—a small distance away beside him. _

_ After looking around in curiosity, he asked, “How did you find this place?” _

_ “From sneaking around since I came here.” Came the immediate reply. _

_ Connor had wondered why Markus would be sneaking around if it could get him into trouble if he ever gets himself caught. He might have a guess though. _

_ “Were you… trying to escape?” _

_ Markus had turned his head to the side to answer him with a rueful smile, “Tried being the keyword. I eventually stopped when I learned to accept it was pointless.” _

_ Then he had faced the sky again—closing his eyes this time around. _

_ There was a short moment of companionable silence before Connor decided to break it with a question. _

_ “Why did you do it?” He softly asked. _

_ “Just like I told you the other day, you would have hit yourself pretty hard if I didn’t.” Markus replied without missing a beat, eyes still closed. _

_ Connor furrowed his brows. It wasn’t the answer he was aiming for. Furthermore, he tried to make the other boy understand why he shouldn’t have done it—without sounding unreasonable this time. _

_ “And just like I said, you didn’t have to do it. It was my own fault. I got careless.” _

_ Markus suddenly sat up with a frustrated sigh. _

_ “Look, it just didn’t sit well with me.” _

_ “What? That Ralph—,” He managed to discover his name when he saw it jump up in rank on the scoreboard right after the race, “—took advantage of my carelessness?” _

_ “Yes.” Markus replied with look in his eyes that seemed to be urging Connor to understand his point of view. _

_ “You do realize we’re being trained to be prepared for exactly that sort of thing? And I failed.” _

_ Markus seemed to deflate at that, and he had simply shrugged and said, “Still.” _

_ Then, he had looked away with a small frown on his face. _

_ “Why do you even care?” Connor asked with persistence, confused as to why Markus would worry about someone else other than himself. One of the first things he learned during his time here so far was that it’s every person for themselves. _

_ Markus had turned back to give him a long look. It hadn’t seemed like he was judging or being critical of him. In fact, Connor had thought he looked rather…sad. _

_ But it didn’t last long as his expression eventually shifted to something lighter. _

_ “Just be more careful next time, okay?” Markus told him, the small smile on his face widening a little as he turned his head towards where a soft breeze was blowing from. _

_ Connor had been quite baffled at that. He honestly never expected this other side of Markus—so open with his emotions and easily showing concern for someone who he barely knew, even to the point of getting himself hurt. It was totally different from how he usually presents himself during training—emotionless eyes and cold indifference. _

_ It’s probably just a mask that Markus puts on. _

_ Connor hadn’t been sure how to take in the change. It was the first time someone went out of their way for him and he realized that it felt…nice. _

* * *

That had been the start of the few times—not too often, for fear of being caught—they would carefully sneak away to talk. Or rather, Markus would do most of the talking and he’d simply be contented to listen and would sometimes slip in a few curious questions of his own. Markus would usually talk about his observations regarding their fellow trainees and other times, he’d give a helpful piece of advice or two on certain skills that Connor had yet to get a full grasp on.

Back then, he’d never really understood why Markus had felt the need to do so, but Connor didn’t mind. In fact, he had liked the idea that he’s having a normal conversation—or as normal as it could get considering their circumstances—with someone around his age.

What Connor had also liked to do was to spend his time gazing at the night sky by himself. He had found it more relaxing than staring at the stark whiteness of his assigned room in the living quarters.

There had been one evening though when he’d been planning to do the same, only to discover Markus was already there. Almost a year had passed since their first real conversation and it was the first time Connor had seen Markus showing up at night.

He had observed that Markus seemed to be in a relatively somber mood and he wasn’t sure if his presence would be welcomed. But just as he was about to leave, Markus had looked at him and gestured for him to sit on the ground beside him.

The silence that followed had been comfortable at first but then a sense of unease had slowly started to creep into Connor. For all the prowess he was showing during training, he certainly lacked the skills required for social interactions. He’d never had a need for it before, but it would have come in handy right at that moment.

All his worry was for naught though as Markus didn’t seem to be bothered by his silence. What Connor hadn’t expected was for Markus to start sharing about how he had lost his family exactly three years prior.

It had been a car accident. His parents didn’t make it, as well as his brother—younger by two years. Only Markus had survived. As his family hadn’t been close to any of their relatives, no one had been able to take him in. He was fortunate enough to be given a trauma-focused therapy for children following the months after the accident but an incident had happened in the medical center he was in and the next thing he knew, he had ended up in the facility.

He had continued talking about how he used to have a petty rivalry going on with his brother as most siblings do, but that he had cared for him very much.

Markus had seemed like he wanted to say more after that but decided not to in the end.

Unfortunately, Connor never had any experience of being comforted by someone before so he hadn’t known how to do so for the other boy. And as he struggled to think of what to say, he ended up blurting out something he hadn’t meant to.

_ “I never had a family.” _

It was why he hadn’t known what to say in the first place—he couldn’t have known how it felt to lose one.

Markus had then turned to look at him with curiosity in his eyes.

_ “Do you…want to tell me about it?” _

Connor had been initially reluctant. But if Markus had felt that he could share his story with him, then maybe he could offer the same in return. Plus, the encouraging look Markus had been giving him certainly helped dispel his hesitation.

Though Markus had chosen not to say anything afterwards, there hadn’t been really a need to. Connor had seen the look of compassion of his eyes, that despite the differences—Markus having a family once but ended up losing them and him never getting the chance to know what it felt like to be a part of a family—Markus had understood him nonetheless. And it had been a comfort for Connor to know that someone finally did.

If Connor were to pinpoint an exact time when they had transitioned from simply being fellow trainees to becoming friends, he could say that it’s probably after that exchange. And he knew for certain that his friendship with Markus was one good thing that happened in his life and he wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

As Connor pulls himself out of those memories, he turns to his uninjured side and closes his eyes. And as his body fully registers the exhaustion due to what had transpired over the night, his last thoughts were of mismatched eyes—so familiar and full of compassion, just as he has always remembered—before he eventually falls into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

* * *

Come next morning, Connor wakes up as the sunlight filters in from the barred window.

It takes a minute for him to get rid of the last remnants of sleep and another to reorient himself as to how he ended locked up in this very room when everything that happened the previous night flashed into his mind—the mission, the ambush, Markus!

The sound of the doorknob turning suddenly makes him sit up on full alert and the door opens to reveal the head of security—Allen, he remembers—giving him a scrutinizing look. Unfazed, he meets the stare head-on.

After a beat of silence, Allen tells him, “You’re off the hook. We’ll be escorting you to the manor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, thank you to those who have taken the time to read, comment and leave a kudos. It’s very much appreciated and also motivates me to give it my best. <3
> 
> Next, this chapter wasn’t originally supposed to end up the way it did. Initially, it was supposed to go straight to the first encounter without exploring Connor’s backstory before he arrived at the facility. But Connor wanted to tell his story, so I went with the flow, though I ended up debating with myself for a day if I should keep it that way or not. @_@
> 
> And lastly, if there are some glaring oddities that totally don’t make sense even in a fictional setting, please let me know and I’ll work on remedying them.


	3. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor finds out why he’s being escorted to the manor and he tries to deal with the guilt that’s eating him up.

The first thing that catches Connor’s attention when he steps foot into the Manfred manor are the colors—splashes of red, aqua, and blue on the staircase by the right; patterns of dark green and beige combination on the floor; golden engravings on the chandelier hanging from the ceiling; and a multitude of other vibrant colors on the various paintings adorning the walls.

One would think that it would be too overwhelming for the eyes to take in. And yet, the cream-colored walls balance it all out—together with the portions of mahogany wood, similar to what was used for the double doors that Connor assumes probably leads to the living room.

Right on cue, they slide open as Markus comes through and greets him with a smile that lights up his entire face.

Connor isn’t entirely sure why Markus seems to be in quite a good mood despite the very obvious threat on his life after last night’s fiasco.

“Hey,” Markus says, “did you manage to at least get some sleep?”

“Yes.” He replies. But he’s not about to ruin it for him so, he tries to go along with it and adds, “The bed was comfortable, to be honest.”

“Really?” Markus doubtfully asks, as if he thinks Connor was trying to pull his leg.

But it’s true actually. He would have woken up before sunrise otherwise.

“Well if that’s the case,” Markus continues, “then I think you’ll find the one in your room just as comfortable.”

Connor blinks as he tries to register what Markus has just said.

“My…room?” He asks, slightly furrowing his brows in confusion.

“Yeah…” Markus says, dragging the word out slowly while slightly leaning back against his right heel, suddenly looking quite unsure.

“Well technically, it’s the guestroom. You see—” He pauses then opens and closes his mouth a few times in an apparent struggle of not knowing how to say what he wants to say. But he eventually huffs out a breath and puts on a look of determination.

“I think it’s best you stay here in the estate for the meantime, while they’re still actively pursuing you.” Markus tells him.

And this time, it’s Connor who seems to be at a loss for what to say.

Markus should be thinking about his own safety, not his. He’s the target for goodness’ sakes. Though technically, Connor’s also become one himself. But that’s not the point. The point is, Markus shouldn’t be worrying about how to deal with a problem that Connor had entirely caused by his own. He’ll find a way somehow—to run and get off the radar. He’ll manage. If he stays here…

“I don’t think that’s wise.” Connor eventually says, “The fact that they’re also after you means that Amanda might send someone else over anytime soon. Additionally, it could pose a danger to the other people here.”

But instead of the look of concern he is expecting to see, it seems that Markus has already predicted Connor’s reaction to his suggestion.

“I understand what you mean.” Markus says, “But I doubt they’ll make an immediate attempt knowing that we’re currently on high security alert.”

He certainly has a point. They’ll only be wasting men and resources.

“The children will be safe in the institute as it has its own lockdown protocols. There are also several escape routes and an underground compound that acts as a temporary safehouse for emergency situations.” Markus adds.

Now that’s information he isn’t aware of. The details only indicated that the estate is heavily guarded.

“That hadn’t been in the briefing nor the database.” Connor remarks as he contemplates what the implications of that might be.

The fact that the mission briefing had been missing several details compared to most of his previous assignments could mean that Markus being located hadn’t come from inside intel. Someone must have sold him out. But he doesn’t want to let Markus worry about it for now while he only has assumptions and no evidence to back up his theory.

“What is it?” Markus asks, “You look like you just discovered something.”

Right. He keeps forgetting that Markus can still read him like an open book.

“Not really.” Connor deflects, “I was just thinking about how Amanda’s intel team seems to be slipping up recently.”

Markus raises his eyebrows in question.

“But color me surprised.” And Connor attempts to smoothly transition back to what they had been discussing about a while ago. “I didn’t expect Carl Manfred to have such a thorough contingency plan.”

“He had to.” Markus says, “He’d made some enemies in his younger days.”

Probably back when he had newly established the institute and when he still lacked the powerful connections that he certainly has built-up over the years.

A small lull in their conversation follows and Markus eventually breaks it by taking the opportunity to lead Connor up to the guestroom. But as Connor takes each step up the stairs and further into the manor, he starts recalling everything that has happened which led to this very situation he is in and he suddenly feels the guilt creeping back in.

After receiving the mission from Amanda, his initial reaction had been a mix of surprise and hesitation. But he’d managed to tamper it down and made himself as detached as possible, knowing that if there’s one mission he had to be careful not to let his emotions get involved, it would be this.

So much could change in ten years’ time. The Markus he knew then might not be the same person he is now. Whatever bond they had formed in the past had to end at one point and all that’s left are mere memories—memories that he long has wished he could let go.

And so, he’d set his mind to focus on one thing alone—the accomplishment of his mission. He’d already calculated the optimal time, position and escape route to take once he’s finished. His weapon had been set up and he was ready to take the shot once the perfect opportunity presents itself.

But then Markus entered his room. And everything fell apart.

He’d already seen glimpses of Markus when he had been preparing and planning everything out, so it shouldn’t have made a difference. But in that one crucial moment, the realization of what he was about to do—that he’s about to kill the one person who mattered to him—had hit him like a ton of bricks. It had sent a shock to Connor’s system that he’d simply frozen up, unable to move.

He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

And a voice that sounded suspiciously like his teenage self had suddenly bombarded his thoughts.

_ What are you doing!? _

_ He’s your friend! _

_ How could you even think about doing this!? After everything the both of you have been through! After what you did for him— _

That’s when he had gotten shot.

“So, here’s your room.”

Connor almost bumps into Markus, not noticing he has already stopped in front of the guestroom due to him being too lost in his own thoughts. The door slides open and Markus moves over to the side and motions for Connor to go ahead and enter the room.

Connor takes a hesitant step forward.

How could he indeed. How could he have forgotten Markus’ kindness? How could he let his ruthlessness cloud his memories of their friendship?

And then he’d felt the exhaustion of what his life had become finally sink in. He couldn’t believe it took a mission to eliminate his once friend to make him acknowledge something he has been trying to deny for quite some time now—that he wants out, that he can’t do this anymore.

Is this what Markus had felt when he made the decision to walk away?

What eats him up more is the fact that even just after the short scuffle they had found themselves in, even if it had been the first time Markus had seen him in years, there had been no hesitation at all. Markus had immediately stuck to his side, helping him fight off Perkins’ men. They had easily fell back into a rhythm and Connor has to admit that it thrilled him to know they could still instinctively remember how to fight alongside each other. Then Markus proceeds to patch him up, like old times. And now this.

“…left some change of clothes you can temporarily borrow…might fit a bit loose and I don’t really wear dress shirts around here…”

Connor vaguely registers what Markus was currently telling him.

He’s being offered a place of refuge. He’s being treated as if he needs protection. And it just feels all wrong to Connor. He’d been so relieved last night when Markus told him that he trusts him. But now that the guilt has crashed into him with full force, he can’t help but think that Markus is misplacing that trust. How can he trust someone who had made an attempt at his life?

“…you’d prefer that, we can get you some new ones later—Hey, what’s the matter?”

Hearing Markus directly calling his attention finally brings a halt to his troubled thoughts.

“Why?” Connor asks, taking a step back and turning to look at Markus. But he realizes it now hurts to stare at those mismatched eyes, clearly evident with worry and confusion.

“Huh?”

“You said you trust me. Why?”

“Well, because I do.” Markus replies incredulously.

Connor averts his eyes as he thinks a way of how to get Markus to understand that he should probably change his mind.

He eventually looks back and asks, “If it was the other way around—what would you have done? Would you even consider doing it?”

Realization dawns on Markus’ face and he straightens up.

“Connor, I know—”

“Answer it.”

Markus looks downright frustrated but Connor already knows the answer to that. He just needs to prove his point.

“No. But—”

“Then you know why you shouldn’t, trust me that is.”

Rather than conceding, Markus seems quite determined to counter his sentiments.

“Look Connor, that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that you didn’t go through with it.”

“If I hadn’t been shot—”

“You already decided not to continue with your mission even before you were shot. You had your chance right as I entered the room, but you never took it.”

Connor should know by now that once Markus finds the right momentum in any argument or discussion, he’ll be dead set on getting his point across until the other party backs down or is ultimately convinced.

“Besides, think about it the other way.” Markus adds, “Let’s say you never considered doing it in the first place and you never had come here. She’ll just send someone else over as you said. And I doubt they’ll be having any second thoughts.”

Connor can admit that Markus has a valid point there, though he predicts that Markus would still have survived, but not unscathed. Still, it doesn’t justify his initial plan of action.

“Looks like I haven’t convinced you enough.” Markus tells him with a hint of a teasing smile.

Wait, what?

“I’m supposed to be the one doing the convincing and not the other way around.” Connor says as he tries to mask the indignation in his voice, but Markus obviously picks up on it.

“No offense meant,” Markus continues lightly, “but I’m sorry to say that you’re not doing a very good job in that regard.”

But then his expression shifts and Connor is suddenly staring back at eyes so compelling that he couldn’t even find it in himself to look away.

“I’m telling you again, Connor. It doesn’t matter to me anymore and I’m  _ never _ going to take that against you. And I do understand why you did it, even if you might think I don’t.”

Markus had spoken in such a heartfelt manner that all Connor can do is believe him. And it felt as if his words were able to chase away the guilt—at least for the moment. It’s still there of course, but now that it was no longer at the forefront of his mind, it doesn’t feel as overwhelming as it did earlier.

Then Markus leans his back to the wall, tipping his head up and tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“The night I walked away—I had my target at gunpoint, ready to pull the trigger. I already knew then that he was innocent and that he was just made a target due to him simply doing his job as a cop and knowing too much. But what choice did I have, right?”

It’s true. They never did. It was either follow orders or be hunted down and killed. Connor had tried to work around that and look where that got him.

“What made you change your mind?” Connor asks.

Markus’ head tilts a little bit to the side as he recalls and says, “His son was approaching the room and had started calling out for his dad. And suddenly, it clicked.”

Then he’s looking back at Connor with a rueful smile when he continues, “I suppose we just needed that one push to snap us out of the conditioning they had drilled into our heads for years.”

It’s technically not the same—Markus’ target was a stranger to him, Markus isn’t. But Connor understands what Markus is trying to tell him. It’s as if he’s indirectly letting him know that he’s already forgiven him and that he should stop beating himself over it.

Connor doesn’t think that he’ll ever forgive himself for it but perhaps he can try moving one step forward—for Markus, at least.

“We all have our own guilts to deal with.” Markus adds, “But someone taught me that everyone deserves a second chance.”

Does he? After all the blood in his hands? But…it had been the same for Markus, right?

“It had been difficult to accept the notion at first.” Markus continues, “But as the days went by, with the help of Carl and a few people who have become my close friends over the past few years, I guess it started to get easier.”

At this point, it has piqued Connor’s curiosity to know who Carl Manfred is to Markus. The briefing only mentioned that the man had taken Markus under his care after Markus went rogue. Has he become a mentor of sorts? It’s certainly possible, as Markus is also an artist himself. Carl Manfred could have taken Markus under his wing and help him improve on his craft—not that Markus lacks talent or skill. But if he has the older man as his mentor and guide, then he would undoubtedly be even better at what he does today. And Connor is suddenly interested to see Markus’ new works, especially now that he doesn’t need to limit himself on what he wants to create on his canvas.

Markus also spoke of his new friends. And Connor doesn’t understand why he suddenly feels a twinge of something…unpleasant that he couldn’t really describe. He decides to ignore it for now.

“Have you…managed to move on from those guilts?” Connor asks.

Markus shakes his head and says, “Nah, I’m pretty sure it’s still a long way to go. But I’d like to think I’m not alone on that road to redemption anymore.” And he sends Connor a look that he’s unable to decipher at the moment.

“You just said that Carl and your friends have been there for you since you began your new life here. You’re certainly not alone then.” Connor says.

He then sees Markus giving him an odd look—was that…disappointment? Did he say something wrong?

But it immediately disappears just as Markus moves away from the wall and tells him, “Look, why don’t you get settled in first? I just need to work on a few things. We can talk more later during breakfast—”

Markus takes a quick glance on his watch, “—which will be in about an hour once Carl wakes up.”

Connor must have had a look of panic on his face as Markus swiftly reassures him with a small grin, “Hey, don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Carl’s a great conversationalist.”

Of course. Why wouldn’t he be? But he’s more worried about the man’s reaction once he finally sees the person who has managed to put the entire estate under unnecessary threat and danger. And now that he’s thought about it, Connor realizes he’s entirely forgotten to ask Markus how he managed to convince the older man to get him out of detainment and to actually allow him to stay here in the manor.

It’s certainly baffling, to say the least.

But it seems like the opportunity has passed and Connor settles on putting it off until later when he gets a chance.

“Oh and, have a look around if you like.” Markus adds, “There are some books in the living room that might interest you.”

“Alright.” Connor acknowledges with a small nod.

“I’ll see you later then.” Markus says and turns to leave.

Connor is about to set foot into the room but he stops at the last second.

“Markus.” He calls out.

The other man turns to look back at him, “Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

And Connor can’t explain why the smile that Markus gives him this time around sends a warmth spreading through his chest.

* * *

After taking a quick shower and changing into a more comfortable set of clothes, Connor decides to take heed of Markus’ suggestion—which is how he finds himself standing in a huge room, staring with increasing interest at the various furniture and objects that seem to be taking up every inch of space in the whole area.

There are different collections of figurines and items on display, most notably the stuffed giraffe by the narrow spiral staircase. A grand piano is positioned across the other corner and Connor wonders what sort of music Markus has been playing recently.

And just as Markus has said, several books line the many shelves that can be found around the room. Connor does notice a few errant books scattered here and there—one can be seen on top of a coffee table while two books seem to be haphazardly placed beside one of the figurines. It certainly makes the manor feel quite lived-in, rather than come off as a museum. Additionally, the sunlight streaming in from the wide windows also gives off a sense of warmth and home.

But it’s the paintings that Connor is most curious about at the moment and he wonders which of the artworks in the room could have been painted by Markus. Unfortunately, he’s not one to have a keen eye for deciphering this form of art and he hopes Carl Manfred won’t be too disappointed once he gets to know that fact.

However, there is one painting that catches his attention though and it takes a while for Connor to realize why it looks so familiar. It’s a recreation of the rundown buildings where he and Markus used to race each other in the past, with a beautiful sunrise on the background. Connor can’t help but stare at it in awe.

Did he paint this from memory?

Connor recalls that other than the initial spot where they would occasionally sneak off to, Markus eventually discovered a new area through another hidden passageway when he ended up following a fellow trainee out of curiosity, which in turn led him to the abandoned buildings.

They were initially tempted to attempt an escape plan but the older trainee—Chloe—had warned them against it, telling them that they’d simply be shot down before they could even blink or if that plan ever succeeded, they’d simply be hunted down and killed. It wasn’t too far from the main facility and they won’t get caught as long as they were careful. Chloe had claimed that she had been slipping out to the buildings for almost a year then and none of the trainers nor the men on patrol have managed to discover her rule-breaking.

From then on, the rundown buildings had served as a convenient place where they would test out their parkouring skills outside a controlled environment and away from watchful eyes. Racing each other to the highest point had become an activity they ended up relishing in rather than merely competing for a higher rank during training.

Connor is eventually brought out of the fond memories when he hears the sound of a wheelchair approaching. He turns away from the painting to see Carl Manfred calmly observing him while wheeling himself forward, though Connor is surprised that he’s not being accompanied by his bodyguard.

“Ah, you must be Connor. Welcome!” The older man greets Connor with a warm smile that he is not expecting at all.

“Mr. Manfred.” Connor returns the greeting with a nod of acknowledgement and respect.

“None of that now.” He gestures with his hand in a swiping motion and says, “Please, call me Carl.”


	4. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus sees something unexpectedly nice and he introduces Connor to the gang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes on Carl: He’s ten years younger here and without any bad medical conditions.
> 
> And just in case it might confuse some people, parts in italics are the “flashback” parts.

Markus had already been expecting Connor’s initial refusal to the suggestion of having him stay under the estate’s protection—at least temporarily, considering the circumstances. He’d been ready with his own responses to Connor’s argument and he fortunately succeeded in making the other man see the logic behind his reasoning.

But then Connor had thrown him a curveball.

Admittedly, it was a pretty smart albeit unfair move on Connor’s part to use his familiarity with him to validate his point, knowing that Markus couldn’t lie to him. But it hurts when he thinks about why Connor did it in the first place.

Markus is definitely not unfamiliar with how the onslaught of guilt could easily be triggered by specific situations and could be overwhelming at times, so he understands Connor’s mindset to a certain degree. He knew Connor’s guilt was bound to manifest itself at some point, but he wasn’t entirely prepared for it to be the first thing they end up heavily talking about this early in the morning.

The thing is, Markus knew Connor just as much as Connor knew him, leading him to turn the tide and giving him the opportunity to let Connor know just what he had felt about the matter.

From an outsider’s point of view, one would expect him to feel betrayal and disappointment. But no. He hadn’t felt those emotions at all. There was anger, yes—anger towards those who have molded and made them into killers with too much blood in their hands. He’d felt the frustration that he still couldn’t escape his past. And he’d felt a gut-wrenching sadness that Connor has to endure the burden of the guilt he’s carrying right now.

It’s been ten years since the last time they’ve seen each other and Amanda would have been able to manipulate and influence Connor within the remaining years of his training and condition him to be how she wanted him to turn out—the perfect assassin. Back then, he could see it in the way she paid special attention to Connor’s progress, always pushing him to go beyond his limits. And Connor always delivered, much to Amanda’s approval and satisfaction.

But for all of the hard work she put into her goal, she ultimately failed on one important aspect—that is to eradicate Connor’s emotions altogether. She might have gotten him to repress them over the years, but it’s all there within him. Or else, he wouldn’t have thought to spare Kara and Alice. He wouldn’t have remembered their friendship. He wouldn’t have felt remorse at all.

And now, Amanda has just lost her best assassin due to her own arrogance and confidence in her abilities to manipulate and treat people as if they’re mere experiments to her. Markus can’t help but feel a smug sort of satisfaction at that thought.

He knows that it’s going to take a long time before Connor will be able to move on from the emotional trauma that comes from walking away from the sort of life they had previously lived. Heck, he’s not even halfway there himself. But he decides that he wants to be there for Connor—as if to make up for the years that he wasn’t. He just wishes that…

Markus sighs.

Is it selfish for him to wish that Connor might do the same for him? Probably. It’s rather bold of him to assume that he and Connor could simply pick up where they left off when they parted ways after he had finished his own training and received his first mission.

Yes, they still work together like a well-oiled machine in a fight. And yes, they can still talk and banter like they normally used to. But Markus can sense the wall that Connor has built around himself over the years. It was evident when they had talked last night and even in their earlier conversation. And Markus is worried—unsure if he had managed to get past that wall at all, even when Connor had let his emotions come through.

And now, he’s been staring at an email draft he was supposed to send out ten minutes ago. An artist had backed out from the upcoming gallery viewing event to be held in a week’s time at Carl’s art gallery located in Greektown. So now, he has to find a last-minute replacement. He’s hoping to get a budding painter on board to give them the opportunity to showcase their artwork. But he’d only managed to get through one sentence on his invitation draft before he getting distracted and drowning within his own thoughts.

Markus frowns and huffs in frustration.

Knowing he’s not going to be accomplishing anything productive at this rate, he decides to just leave it for later and heads out of his room.

He’d assumed that Connor could either still be in the guestroom, having a look around the manor, or probably even managing to find a book that might interest him.

What he does not expect when he enters the living room however, is to see Carl already up and about and seemingly engrossed in an intense game of chess with Connor.

Markus blinks twice in succession just to make sure that it’s not his imagination playing tricks on him. But then he notices one more thing that puts him to a complete halt.

Seeing Connor in a loosely-fitted blue and gray hoodie honestly shouldn’t affect him in any shape or form. Heck, they used to wear drab looking sweatshirts and pants as one of their uniforms back in their training days. And it’s not even because it’s his own clothes that Connor’s wearing—

—What?

Markus immediately stamps down that line of thought. He’s getting sidetracked.

He supposes it’s because Connor looks nothing like a deadly assassin at the moment—shoulders relaxed, head tilted a bit to the side, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he analyzes the next move he should make. It’s as if he’s subconsciously let his wall and guard down without meaning to. And somehow, it makes him appear…vulnerable. It’s not a sight Markus is used to seeing and he’s suddenly hit by an urge to protect him and keep him safe—though technically, Connor doesn’t need anyone’s protection. But still…

Markus is brought out of his musings when Connor finally decides on his move and triumphantly announces a checkmate against his opponent. Then he simultaneously turns to look at Markus straight in the eye—as if Connor knew he’d been staring the whole time.

He couldn’t stop the subtle grin breaking out of his face, which Connor unexpectedly returns.

“Markus!” Carl says, “There you are. We were waiting for you.”

“You’re usually never up earlier than nine, Carl.” Markus responds with eyebrows raised in suspicion as he approaches them. It was just half past eight.

“Well now, you can’t fault an old man for simply wanting to be a good host in welcoming the new guest.”

That’s Carl saying he wants to get to know Connor on his own terms, without any biases.

Fair enough.

After years of living with Carl, Markus knows that he’s not one to easily pass judgement on someone—Markus himself being a perfect example. This was even proven true when he had been fraught with worry over the fact that Allen would have reported everything to Carl—including how he’s capable of taking down a number of assailants and coming out without barely a scratch.

But then Carl had dispelled his worry altogether when he said, “ _ I already had a hunch when I took you in five years ago. But I didn’t want to use those assumptions as a basis of knowing who you are. That may be your past but it was your choice not to tell me. And I respected that.  _ **_You_ ** _ are the Markus that I know now and that’s all that matters. _ ”

Markus had felt immense relief and gratitude at that. And he thinks that he’s quite lucky to have met a father-figure in Carl. He lost a father once. He never thought he’ll get the chance to have another one again.

And although he knew it wouldn’t be easy to talk about his past and things that he’d very much wanted to forget, Carl’s words had helped in bolstering his courage to finally do so. He had to—if he wanted to get Connor out of the sticky situation he’d ended up in.

And so, he’d told Carl about how he lost his family in an accident to how he was kidnapped and was eventually sent to the facility. He also told him about who Amanda Stern really is and how CyberLife is linked to her organization of assassins—He’d noticed Carl having a serious look of contemplation on his face when he’d mentioned it to him, but he hadn’t commented on it. And Markus wonders if Carl knows something that he isn’t telling him.

To be fair, he can’t fault Carl for keeping his own secrets. He’d be a hypocrite if he did.

Anyway, he eventually got to the part where he talked about befriending Connor despite the fact that it wasn’t allowed.

“ _ I guess you could say I’m not really one for the rules. _ ” He’d told Carl.

And Carl ended up chuckling in amusement, “ _ Hah! Why am I not surprised? _ ”

He didn’t have the luxury of sharing stories of fonder times as it was getting quite late into the night and he had much more important matters to explain. Even though Carl isn’t a frail old man, Markus didn’t want to keep him up for longer than he should. So, he simply told Carl that Connor had ended up a close friend of his but that they parted ways when Markus left the training facility ten years ago.

Carl’s reaction had told him that the older man seemed to find it intriguing. But his expression shifted into one of alarm and concern when Markus revealed that Connor and the person Allen’s men had apprehended were one and the same. It was Carl’s next question though which gave Markus the perfect opening for his intended goal.

_ “What about the other assailants?” Carl asked. _

_ “They were Perkins’ men.” He replied and further clarified when he was met with Carl’s confused stare, “He’s Amanda’s right hand and henchman.” _

_ “Were they sent as backup just in case Connor failed his mission?” _

_ “No. Connor was their intended target. I just happened to get involved when they decided to ambush him.” _

Markus then proceeded to recount Connor’s past mission—about how he went against his orders, refusing to kill his targets and letting them escape, but that he was ultimately discovered and was now being hunted down.

_ “He has nowhere to go now since he’s essentially considered to have gone rogue.” Markus said in conclusion. _

_ “But his mission was to eliminate you, Markus.” Carl responded, enunciating each word as if knowing that Markus would plead Connor’s case and telling him to consider the situation more carefully and logically, “You would have been dead if—” _

_ “No.” Markus shook his head as he refuted Carl’s assumption, “Even if he hadn’t been shot, I would still be alive.” _

_ “Don’t you think you’re letting your memories of your friendship with him cloud your perception?” Carl told him, not unkindly—as if he’s merely giving him a fatherly advice, “People can change in ten years’ time, son. It doesn’t mean he still sees you the same way you see him.” _

Markus admits that what Carl had said made absolute sense. But it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that he knows Connor better than anyone else—that Connor had every opportunity to take him down from the moment he stepped foot inside his room until he stopped by his closet, but he never took it.

Carl still looked doubtful when Markus told him so.

_ “I know him, Carl. He never hesitates once he’s focused on accomplishing something.” _

_ Markus felt the frustration setting in when it seemed that Carl wasn’t convinced enough. _

_ “You said everyone deserves a second chance, right?” _

_ “Yes, that I did.” _

_ He tried to ignore the difference in the way their voices sounded—a hint of desperation that’s becoming apparent in his own while Carl’s had remained calm and steady. _

_ Reluctantly accepting that using his friendship with Connor as means of persuasion might not be enough, Markus had hoped that the next thing he had in mind would be. _

_ “Kara and Alice—They’re the ones who Connor spared.” _

_ It seemed to have worked when Markus sees the realization in Carl’s eyes as he takes it into consideration. Both of them were strangers to Connor and Alice is but a mere child. Add the fact that Carl has seen them both personally in the flesh. Sometimes, it’s between having knowledge of something and having witnessed that something by your own two eyes which makes the difference. _

_ A few seconds of silence passed—which honestly felt like stretched-out minutes to Markus—before Carl spoke again. _

_ “It took this friend of yours showing up tonight for you to finally open up about your past. And you’re doing everything you can to convince me that he’s no longer a threat to you or anyone else here for that matter. He must be very important to you.” _

_ “Yes. Yes, he is.” _

_ “Alright.” _

Markus had felt the tension leave his body at that, knowing that he’d managed to at least get Connor released from detainment. But he had not expected Carl’s suggestion of having Connor stay in the manor as well, for the time being. Come to think of it, Carl was being smart about it—it would give him the opportunity to find out if Connor can be trusted as Markus claims him to be.

And it seems that Markus can now breathe a sigh of relief, seeing as they’re already getting along quite well, by the looks of it. Although, even if Markus is confident that Carl won’t have any problems getting past Connor’s more distant and reserved demeanor, he wasn’t anticipating Connor to immediately warm up to Carl just minutes after first meeting him.

Not that he’s complaining, but it’s certainly a pleasant surprise.

They eventually transfer to the larger table where breakfast is currently served, with Markus and Connor trailing behind Carl as he wheels ahead of them. He stops midway though and partially turns around as he looks at Connor, as if suddenly remembering something he had forgotten to mention earlier.

“By the way Connor, would you indulge me in a rematch some other day?” Carl asks.

Connor seems to be caught off guard by the very casual way the question was thrown at him. But he quickly regains his composure.

“Of course. I look forward to it.” He replies with a half-smile and a glint of challenge in his eyes.

“Good! Good!” Carl responds with much enthusiasm as he turns back around and continues making his way to the table.

“When did you two manage to get along so well?” Markus asks Connor in a half-whisper.

“When I told him about the first time we— _ talked _ .” Connor replies—eyebrows raised with a pointed look at the last word that Markus could imagine the air-quotes.

It takes a few confusing seconds for Markus to wrack his memory on what Connor was alluding to and when he finally remembers the embarrassing way he was left with a painful back and having the person he took the fall for get angry at him instead of reacting how people normally would, he closes his eyes and lets out a quiet groan.

“I bet he found that hilarious.” Markus remarks, deadpan.

“Yes, he did.” Connor says, amusement evident in his eyes.

Admittedly, it serves a good laugh for storytelling purposes and if it helps Carl get to know the side of Connor that nobody really gets to see, then he can forgive Connor for even bringing it up in the first place—

“And he said that he’d like to hear more stories—of a similar kind.” Connor continues and Markus thinks he sees something more mischievous in those eyes this time around, “I think you should tell him about that time we were racing at the abandoned buildings when you accidentally slipped and ended up soaked in a puddle of water.”

—Nope. Markus takes it back.

* * *

Conversation over breakfast honestly went quite better than Markus had expected. There hadn’t been any awkward or tense moments at all. Carl was curious to know about Connor’s interests, to which Connor had been hesitant to admit that he’s not inclined to the arts similarly like Markus is.

“There’s no need to feel bad about that. We can’t expect everyone to like the same things and be experts in the same fields. That would be boring, if I say so myself.” Carl said.

Connor seemed a lot more comfortable after that and ended up sharing that he does favor reading books, especially those that require an analytical mind, to which Carl was all too happy to offer recommendations from his own collection.

By the time breakfast was almost over, Carl piped up with a suggestion.

“Markus, why don’t you introduce Connor to your friends? And maybe give him a tour around the estate afterwards?”

Which is why Markus finds himself on the front porch of a house while waiting for one of his friends to answer the door as Connor observes the other houses in the vicinity in mild curiosity.

He’d explained to Connor that the cluster of houses in this particular area are essentially for the estate and institute personnel who prefer to avoid the trouble of commuting or traveling to and from their actual homes—much like one of his friends, Josh who teaches at the institute and had chosen a more convenient living arrangement.

Additionally, some students who grew up in the institute—such as the case with his two other friends, North and Simon—have decided to make the Manfred Estate their permanent home and Carl was all but willing to provide the home that they needed.

The front door eventually opens and Markus greets his friend with a smile, “Hey North.”

“Markus.” With a mild look of surprise on her face, she comes out and gives him a light hug, “You’re okay.”

“Who’s this?” North asks just as Markus pulls away from the hug and she sees Connor over Markus’ shoulder. Markus doesn’t fail to notice the intrigued look she sends Connor’s way.

“Connor—he’s a friend.” Markus replies as Connor gives North a small nod by means of greeting.

North looks back and forth between the two of them, eyes narrowing at Markus in obvious question.

“How did you manage to make a new friend without us knowing about it?”

“Actually, he’s a friend from my childhood days.” Markus replies.

“Uh-huh.”

“Look, I’ll tell you more in a minute. Are Simon and Josh here?”

“Yeah,” North replies, tone shifting to something more casual for the time being, “institute activities have been cancelled for today and the whole estate’s in temporary lockdown until around late afternoon so, we can’t technically go anywhere.”

She gives Connor another glance before nodding her head to the side, “Come on in.”

Markus and Connor follow her lead as she heads back inside into the living room and calls out, “Guys! Markus’ here with a  _ friend _ .”

Markus isn’t entirely sure what North is trying to imply with that and he looks back at Connor as if in apology. But Connor simply quirks an eyebrow at him, seemingly unbothered by it.

Soon enough, Simon comes through from the hallway followed by Josh who immediately speaks up once he spots Markus.

“Hey Markus—”

But then he abruptly stops mid-greeting and Markus is left to wonder why Josh is suddenly exchanging conspiratorial glances with Simon.

After which, Simon looks back at Markus as he slowly points to Connor and asks, “Isn’t that…your favorite hoodie?”

Right. Markus thinks back to how he decided to throw the hoodie in as a last-minute thought, just in case Connor might prefer something other than the long-sleeved shirts he left for him to borrow. When he asked Connor much later why he’d chosen said article of clothing, he claimed that he found it quite comfortable and thick enough to combat the coldness of the current autumn chill.

“Yeah,” Markus replies, “what’s—?”

He halts when he sees Simon’s expression turning into a sly grin and he suddenly figures out what North had been insinuating earlier.

“Simon, get your mind off the gutter!”

“What?” Simon responds as innocently as possible, which sort of makes it worse.

“He just needs to temporarily borrow some change of clothes, alright?”

Markus is pretty sure he shouldn’t have taken the bait, but it is what it is.

Simon raises his hands up in mock surrender, “Okay, okay. No need to get defensive. I didn’t even say anything.”

“You didn’t have to say anything. Your face was a dead giveaway.” Markus says, deadpan.

And just when he thinks they can finally move onto the reason as to why he came over in the first place, Josh mutters under his breath, “Damn. Just when I thought I finally won a bet.”

“Wait, what bet?”

North snickers and plops herself down on the nearest sofa and casually says, “I think it was a bet about whether you had been spending time with a secret lover in a hidden alcove somewhere around the estate.”

“What!? Josh, I thought you’re supposed to be the mature one here.”

Markus feels utterly mortified at the audacity of his friends to tease him this way and he suddenly wishes for the ground to swallow him up. What’s worse, even his own thoughts decide to betray him by flashing memories of conversations at the unfinished platform and parkouring sessions at the rundown buildings.

Thankfully, Connor spares him the embarrassment by keeping a straight face and pretending to be interested in the various objects on the display shelf along the nearby wall.

Much later on, he ended up profusely apologizing to Connor for his friends’ behavior but Connor simply looked at him in amusement and said, “It was honestly entertaining watching you get teased by them.”

Perhaps it’s time for Markus to find a new set of friends.

“Hey, you can’t blame them.” North shrugs as she attempts to explain and defend Simon and Josh’s betting schemes, “You refused to hang out with us for almost a week that one time and we had no idea why.”

Markus remembers now. It had been when he was plagued with nightmares for a number of consecutive nights a few days after Kara and Alice had arrived. Seeing a roughly-drawn sketch of Amanda and the training facility’s interior made by Alice was what triggered them.

They don’t come as often as they used to. But when they do, he tends to retreat into himself and avoids talking to anyone, afraid that he might suddenly spill things that he isn’t ready for anyone to know, especially his friends.

“I was just busy with a project that time, okay?” Markus says by way of apology. And with that, the teasing atmosphere shifts to something heavier.

Well, it’s partly true. He usually comes up with a finished painting some few days later after the nightmares.

North has a look on her face that says— _ Cut the bullshit. I know you’re lying and hiding something, but I’ll let it pass. _

Simon and Josh are both giving him equally skeptical looks with hints of concern in their eyes.

But then he sees Connor—whose head is angled in a way that the other three couldn’t see his face—staring at him intently with those brown eyes of his and Markus realizes that Connor  _ knows _ .

Of course he would. Markus used to get nightmares too back then. He’d react similarly, though there hadn’t been any painting—only sketches that he had to destroy and get rid of afterwards. But at least he had Connor to talk to.

Markus’ thoughts get interrupted and Connor breaks eye contact when North thankfully changes the topic and says, “So, you were planning to introduce your friend?”

“Yeah.” Markus exchanges a brief look with Connor as he nods in understanding.

Simon goes over to take a seat beside North and Josh crosses his arms, leaning against the entryway.

“So, Connor and I grew up together in a foster home which is how we ended up becoming friends.” Markus starts as he sits down on the remaining one-seater sofa.

“By the time we were teenagers and got out of the foster home, we went our separate ways.” He continues, “We didn’t see each other for about a decade, until last night that is.”

Markus looks over to Connor, who’s now leaning against the wall beside the display shelf.

“I was working as a double agent,” Connor smoothly carries on with the story, “But someone must have framed me and so, there were orders to take me down—eliminate on sight.”

“Which is why he’ll be staying under the estate’s protection for the time being.” Markus finishes while gauging his friends’ reactions.

Josh has a worried frown on his face as he seems to have recalled something.

“So, the gunshots we heard last night were…?”

“Partly from the men who were after me.” Connor replies in confirmation.

“And also from Allen’s men when they arrived at the scene just in time.” Markus adds.

Simon seems to be still taking the story in—the look of shock still evident on his face.

“Wow, that was totally unexpected.” He finally says, “I mean—no offense meant Connor, but you don’t peg me as the type who would be working that kind of a dangerous job.”

If only Simon knew.

“None taken.” Connor says with a small nod and that polite half-smile of his.

It’s what makes Connor all the more dangerous—which North seems to have a similar opinion of when she says, “No, that actually makes sense. With that innocent-looking face of yours, it’d be easy for you to fool people into letting their guard down.”

That last bit had been said with a subtle sharpness that Markus doesn’t feel comfortable with at all and he finally gets the point of giving a cover-up story instead of the real one. It had been Carl’s idea. That way, Markus doesn’t need to reveal his past and Connor won’t be met with unnecessary judgement from anyone won’t easily understand their circumstance.

North is still staring at Connor in mild scrutiny and just as he’s about to respond, Josh decides to cut in.

“By the way, anyone want a cup of coffee?”

Markus isn’t sure if Josh had done that on purpose or if it was just a conveniently perfect timing on his part, but it does break the rising albeit small tension that stemmed from North’s remark.

“Yeah Josh, please. I haven’t had one today.” North turns to Josh and flashes him a smile of gratitude.

Markus and Connor both decline—having just came from breakfast at the manor, and Simon claims to have already drank a cup earlier in the morning.

Afterwards, their conversation transitioned into something more casual where Simon and Josh took turns in asking Connor about how Markus had been as a child and about his job as a “double agent” amongst other mundane things, with North providing side commentary—thankfully, without any of the bite she had earlier.

Though Connor wasn’t as open and comfortable as he had been with Carl—answering their questions as concisely as he can, he still took it in stride. Markus is even impressed at the way Connor managed to combine the truths of their childhood days and interweave them with fictional tales when the topic of their friendship came up.

Some few minutes later, North suddenly pipes up, “Hey Markus, I just had this thought.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember when you used to get frustrated because you couldn’t rope any of us in to go on morning runs with you?”

Yes, he definitely does. For starters, North isn’t a morning person. Exercising isn’t Simon’s thing—though North keeps pestering him about it. And Josh prefers lighter forms of exercises after a day’s work.

“Maybe he’d be interested?” North suggests as she jerks her thumb at Connor’s direction.

And Markus thinks—Yeah, that’s actually a great idea.


	5. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A question brought up by Connor leads Markus to wonder if he’s really as free as he thinks he is.

_ It’s a really beautiful morning today _ , Markus thinks as he focuses on maintaining the pace that he started with at the beginning of his run and keeps it in-sync with his breathing pattern—Inhale for two steps and exhale for one.

It’s not an exaggeration.

The morning breeze is blowing across his face like a comfortable caress against his skin. It’s just the right temperature as well—not too chilly and no hints of unseasonable warmness. The rising sun revealing a clear blue sky, perfectly matching the warm reds and oranges of the autumn leaves falling from the trees and crunching beneath his feet. It’s very much a picturesque scenery. One that could be fittingly captured in a photograph, or even a canvas.

Now that’s a thought. And he ponders on whether it could be the subject of his next artwork. Come to think of it, he’s never painted anything related to autumn before. There had never been something to inspire him to do so.

He spares a quick glance to his right to see Connor matching his own pace.

In any case, now would be a good time as any to try it out.

It had been fairly easy to get Connor on board when North piped in with the suggestion.

_ “What do you say, you up for it?” _ He’d asked.

_ “Sure, why not?” _

In fact, their short exchange had only served as a pretense. North, Simon and Josh didn’t have to know that morning runs had been part of their regular training routine back in the days. The main difference being that they used to do it as a whole group and there had been no opportunity nor time to admire any landscape whatsoever.

Now however, he’s able to do it when he chooses to. And instead of it being a stressful aspect of his life like how it was in the past, it serves as a way to relax his mind and release any pent-up energy.

They eventually approach a curve on the pathway with Markus getting Connor’s attention as he points to a large house coming into their view.

They slow down to a jog and then shift to a normal walking speed as Markus says, “That’s Rose’s house and her farm—the one I was telling you about yesterday.”

Though Connor is now fairly acquainted to where most of the different structures—the institute, the cluster of houses and the security personnel building—are located in the estate, Markus had skipped out on one when he’d given him a brief tour yesterday afternoon. He gathered that it would be a lot more practical to show him the farm once they get into their morning run as it was situated all the way to the other end of the entire property, where they’re conveniently passing by at the moment.

“Oh.” Connor gives the house an observing glance then looks back at Markus and asks, “Do you often help out at the farm?”

“Sometimes, when I end up having too much free time without anything to do.” Markus says with a shrug, “Rose doesn’t actually need the extra help since her son—Adam—does most of the work. She appreciates it just the same though.”

Speak of the devil. There’s Rose coming out of her house.

Her face lightens up with a warm smile as she spots and approaches the both of them while Markus and Connor come to a stop as they meet her half-way.

“Hey Markus, how’s your morning run going so far?” Rose asks in greeting.

“Pretty good.” He replies and returns her smile.

“Mm-hmm.” Rose gives him a knowing look that Markus is not quite sure what to make of.

She then turns to Connor and says, “And I suppose you must be Connor. North mentioned you yesterday. Said you’re a childhood friend of Markus.”

The fact that it was North who said that has Markus a tad worried about what else she might have told Rose.

“A pleasant morning to you, Rose.” Connor greets, “And yes, that is correct.”

“It’s a pleasant morning indeed, Connor.” Rose remarks as she extends her arms out, gesturing to their surroundings in emphasis.

Markus then notices Rose’s car—a combination of red and gray—by the driveway.

“You’re not taking the car?” He asks.

“Not today.” Rose replies, “Seems like the perfect time and weather to have good stroll.”

He nods in agreement and says, “That’s definitely true.”

“So, I take it you’re killing two birds with one stone by showing Connor around while going through your morning run?” Rose asks.

“Yeah, you could put it that way.” He replies.

“Well, don’t let me keep you. Just tell me when you plan to give him a tour of the institute’s interior and I’ll be happy to join in.”

Though Markus is grateful for the offer, he’s concerned that Connor might not be comfortable with the idea at all, knowing that they might end up encountering Kara or Alice, or both of them at the same time.

A quick glance at Connor confirms his worries as he sees a hint of apprehension in his eyes. He’ll have to discuss it with Connor later as he won’t have the luxury of avoiding going inside the institute altogether lest people get suspicious—especially North. But for now—

“Got it. Thanks Rose.”

“Well then, I’ll see the both of you later.” Rose says as she waves them a goodbye and starts walking towards the direction where they had come from.

“She’s really nice, isn’t she?” Markus remarks as he notices Connor staring at Rose’s retreating form, face looking open and relaxed, much like when he was conversing with Carl.

“Yes. Yes, she is.” Connor replies in agreement and turns to look at Markus as he says, “Though I’m a bit curious to know as to how she came to manage the institute on Carl’s behalf.”

They resume walking as Markus tells Connor that Rose used to volunteer at a charity institution in the past, which is how Carl became acquainted with her since he used to make personal visits to the places he donates to. At one point though, Rose eventually stopped which saddened Carl quite a bit as he always looked forward to their conversations. Rose was among a handful people that Carl feels comfortable chatting with—no pretenses or small talk, just honest sincerity on what she does and what she believes in.

It was only after a while that Carl found out about the death of Rose’s husband due to cancer and she had to work twice as hard to provide for Adam’s schooling. Since Rose had gained Carl’s trust, he was compelled to offer her the opportunity to manage his school. Carl hadn’t been getting any younger, so he might as well have someone take over the task for him.

Additionally, Carl discovered that Rose used to have a small garden that she tended to back when her husband was still alive but she had no choice other than to sell their house to pay the hospital bills. It’s the reason why Carl came up with the idea of offering both the house and farm to Rose and Adam. They even have the opportunity to sell small batches of natural honey and organic pumpkins at the Greektown market every now and then for some extra income.

“She seemed to have gone through a lot,” Connor says with a thoughtful expression, “but is fortunate enough to have gained Carl’s sympathy.”

“Just like us, I guess.” Markus says. But Connor doesn’t seem to exactly agree, looking doubtful at the fact that Carl might feel the same level of compassion for him as he does for Markus and Rose.

Not wanting Connor’s thoughts going down into that path again any time soon, Markus starts picking up his pace, building his momentum into a run as he calls out, “Come on! We’re almost near the garden.”

It works as Connor immediately shifts his focus back and matches Markus’ pace once more.

Every time he is able to distract Connor from his troubled thoughts, Markus will count it as a success.

They eventually reach one of the small gardens that are scattered around the estate. Markus thinks it can be considered his favorite, not because of aesthetic reasons—as each of the gardens in the estate has its own charm—but merely how it’s conveniently located at the end of his jogging path. It’s where he chooses to meditate sometimes—if he feels like it, or to just cool down and take a break at the end of a run.

Two long benches can be seen, one on each side. The pavement beneath the benches connects and leads to the main estate pathway. A number of hedges, bushes and a variety of flowers can be admired in a beautiful blend of nature and creative landscaping.

He’s abruptly pulled out of his thoughts though when Connor very casually makes a comment that Markus never expects to hear from him.

“I suppose this isn’t considered a  _ hidden alcove _ by any standards?”

The implication of what Connor has just said doesn’t immediately register in Markus’ head and when it finally does, he feels his face heating up just as he involuntarily lets out an embarrassed groan and says, “Oh God, Connor. Please don’t bring that up again.”

It was still fine when it had been Josh and Simon poking fun at him but now that Connor himself chose to take a stab at it, it somehow became a lot worse.

Markus isn’t quite sure what Connor must be seeing on his face when his teasing smile all but disappears and his expression shifts to a neutral one.

“I apologize. I hadn’t meant to make you feel uncomfortable.” Connor tells him in a small voice.

No, that’s not it. He’s got it wrong. It’s just…complicated—and not something Markus wants to delve into at the moment. Maybe later. But for now, he needs to reassure Connor that everything’s fine and that he doesn’t need to get worked up about it.

“Hey look, it’s fine. It’s no big deal, really.” Markus gently says.

Connor tilts his head a bit to the side and stares at him for a while—as if making sure that Markus is being honest about it and not merely pretending for Connor’s sake.

“Alright.”

Markus breathes an internal sigh of relief.

* * *

Some ten to fifteen minutes later, Markus is simply enjoying the companionable silence while lying down on the pavement on his back, arms crossed behind his head, eyes closed in relaxation when Connor calls his attention.

“Markus?”

“Hmm?”

“You remember Chloe?”

Markus opens and squints his eyes as he looks to his left to see Connor sitting the way he usually does—forearms and elbows casually positioned on top of his propped-up knees.

“Yeah, of course. Why bring her up now?”

“It just occurred to me that they never managed to track her down.” Connor replies, eyes staring straight ahead.

Markus turns to face back up at the morning sky as he remembers the girl who he used to call the “lone wolf” in his head. The title would have been more fitting for Connor. But it got shot down when Markus ended up befriending him. And they had stuck together—at least when they’re away from watchful eyes. So, Chloe had retained the title.

Chloe, who had been two years older than Markus, was brought to the facility a year earlier than him. His first impression of her had been that she seemed too sweet and innocent with her soft-looking blonde hair and wide blue eyes. But it was how she would distance herself from everyone else—even during training where they were actually allowed to interact with each other—that he realized she preferred to be alone.

As with each and every one of them who went through the tough training program over the years—though she managed to retain her sweet-looking demeanor, her eyes had turned icy blue, hardened by the harshness and brutality they were exposed to. It somehow made her look more dangerous and befitting of what he had considered her to be.

By some unexpected string of events, she had also inadvertently become a friend to both him and Connor, though not as close as to how he and Connor are.

Interestingly enough, Markus hadn’t been the first Cypher assassin to have gone rogue. It was Chloe. He isn’t exactly aware of the specifics behind the incident as all mission details are classified, even amongst themselves. But it had caught Amanda off-guard, which led to her tightening her leash and putting her active operatives on heavy surveillance for the first few years after the incident. And that included himself.

Fortunately for Chloe, Amanda and her intel team never managed to find her. Markus is certainly curious as to how she had successfully done so when he doesn’t seem to have the same level of luck, as it appears.

“I guess she’s just better in keeping herself untraceable.” Markus casually remarks as he glances back at Connor to see him with a faraway look on his face.

He sits back up into a cross-legged position and softly calls out, “Connor?”

After a few more seconds of stretched-out silence, he adds, “What are you thinking about?”

Connor looks down this time, a small frown settling on his face as he bitterly asks, “Are we just supposed to hide for the rest of our lives?”

The question catches Markus off-guard and he’s not sure how to answer.

Yes? No? Maybe?

And then comes the realization that he hasn’t really thought much about the future—being so wrapped up in this bubble of comfort that he has found himself in. But now that the bubble has burst, maybe he should.

“Can’t say it worked perfectly for me.” Markus finally replies with a casual shrug, “But I did survive undetected for five years.”

Connor turns to him and says, “I’m still wondering how you managed that when you were just in the same city all this time.”

Right. He doesn’t know yet. Well.

Markus takes a deep breath, lets it out in a huff and darts his eyes away to avoid looking directly at Connor.

“I have never actually set foot outside the estate in those five years.”

He remembers waking up to a room, a painting of a beautiful sunrise hanging on the wall directly in front of him being the first thing he saw. It had been surreal, since he never expected he’ll ever open his eyes again.

He remembers his first conversation with Carl. The older man had told him that an off-the-grid doctor—an acquaintance of his—brought Markus to him with the request to have him under the estate’s protection, to make sure that he’s untraceable.

He remembers how he couldn’t bring himself to talk about why he needed the protection anyways. He was extremely lucky that Carl had been very understanding and never forced him to do so.

_ “You don’t have to tell me now. When you’re ready, I’m here to listen.” _

It baffled him at first as to why Carl had easily taken him under his care without any knowledge of his past. But when Carl took him for a visit to the institute, he finally understood why.

Additionally, in order to keep him protected, Carl had told him that he had to remain inside the estate premises for an indefinite period of time.

Though it’s obviously not perfect by any means, he had been doing alright. He was initially worried that he’ll eventually go crazy with his new living arrangements when Carl told him about it. But it was a sacrifice he had been willing to take in exchange for the chance to finally escape his past. And despite the limitations, it had oddly felt refreshing to not have the need to be always on alert, always looking behind his back every minute of his life.

With no more eyes tracking his every movement, he’s able to do what he wants to do. Without the need to repress his emotions any longer, he’s allowed to freely express what he feels. And without any absurd rules to follow, he’s managed to have normal friendships unlike before.

“What?”

And yet… Hearing his own answer combined with the disbelief in Connor’s voice suddenly makes him realize how pathetically ironic it actually is.

He directs his gaze back when Connor incredulously asks, “And you’re fine with that?”

“I learned to live with it.” Markus replies and he wills himself to ignore the dejectedness in his own voice.

Connor then pins him with a questioning stare—as if he’s trying to understand how Markus is able to settle for something like this—and softly asks, “But isn’t that just similar to—?”

— _ how we used to live in the past? _

_ How much longer can you be content with this? _

_ This isn’t freedom at all. _

Markus acknowledges Connor’s thoughts without having to really hear them anyway.

He’s never really entertained the idea that he’s just been hiding all this time. But if he’s being honest, perhaps it’s because he’s forced himself not to think about it, lest he ends up bitter and discontented with what he has always assumed to be a second chance at a normal life. It isn’t ideal, but he adjusted and avoided thinking about what-ifs.

But now that Connor has brought it up front row and center in his mind, he can no longer pretend that he’s really fine with it. No matter how much he tries to twist his current circumstance into something positive, Connor’s right. This isn’t real freedom. But, what can he do? What  _ can _ they do? Does he even deserve to want for more?

He suddenly recalls the one time he was assigned a mission together with Chloe. Like himself, she’s always hated Amanda and being a part of Cypher. And being that they trusted each other enough not to betray the other, they ended up having a long conversation about their own frustrations.

Markus remembers almost breaking down and it had been the only time he’d wished for a drink to knock him fully unconscious into oblivion. But then Chloe had patiently reminded him that they had a mission to accomplish and that he couldn’t afford to be hungover during the most crucial moment.

If he’d been an emotional mess then, Chloe certainly had more control over her own. She had also seemed a lot more determined of breaking away from the figurative chains that had held them captive when on the other hand, he’d already started to accept the hopeless situation he had been forced into.

He couldn’t help but ask her then,  _ “Do you ever think we’ll be free from this?” _

_ “Yes, I’d like to think so.” _ Chloe had replied while staring up at the night sky.

She then turned to look at him straight in the eye as she firmly said,  _ “Someday, we will.” _

Markus had admired the confidence he saw in those blue eyes of hers and he’d always wondered where she had managed to pull it from.

Now would probably be a good time to figure it out, knowing that it might actually help him find his own courage to finally chase the path to real freedom.


	6. Hide and Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets roped into playing hide and seek with Alice and her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have already read chapter 5, I just wanted to give a heads-up that I added a very small part after this line "I have never actually set foot outside the estate...". It doesn't change anything to the plot, just adding some details in so no worries there. :)

Connor has always been a logical thinker, analyzing every situation he encounters using sound reasoning and judgement. His view and perspective would usually be rooted in reality as he tends to avoid having his thoughts straying towards fanciful notions and wishful thinking. And yet, it has always been a guilty pleasure of his to immerse himself in novels telling tales of fantasies. He often wonders if it’s a subconscious part of himself desiring to escape his own reality that led him to seek comfort in these stories of fiction.

With that thought, he turns a page of the book that he’s currently reading. But just as he’s about to continue on to the next passage, he is alerted by the sound of rustling leaves. Taking a careful glance to where the noise had come from, Connor is surprised to see Alice who is seemingly hiding by the bushes to the side, staring at him with all the innocence in the world. And he couldn’t prevent the memories of his encounter with both Kara and her at the Eastern Motel that occurred a few months back from flashing in his mind.

_ Kara had just come out from the bathroom when Connor quickly went behind her, putting his right hand over her mouth and keeping her still with his left. A choked gasp had left her throat. _

_ Sensing her head moving to take a worried glance at Alice, Connor had told her, “Don’t worry. She’s not dead. I merely gave her something to keep her asleep—give or take an hour.” _

_ He had given her a few seconds to let it sink in until she had calmed down enough before he continued, “Do I have your promise that you won’t scream when I let go?” _

_ Kara nodded, though it was obvious through her quivering frame that she was still quite frightened. Connor lifted his hand away from her mouth but kept his other hand on her shoulder to make sure she was faced away from him. _

_ “What do you want?” Kara asked in a shaky whisper. _

_ “It’s not about what I want. It’s what I need to do. I’m supposed to kill you and the girl. But I won’t.” Connor replied. Kara had remained silent and so, he continued, “Where are you planning to go?” _

_ “I can’t tell you.” _

_ “If you don’t tell me, then this is not going to work. I need to cover my tracks if I’m going to let you escape.” _

_ “East end of Detroit… There’s an institute.” Kara finally acquiesced. _

_ “How will you get there?” _

_ “Someone will be picking us up in the morning.” _

_ A short but tense silence permeated the room as Connor briefly thought over and analyzed his next plan of action. After which, he proceeded to instruct Kara, “Hand over your phone. You won’t be needing it anymore.” Once Kara had done as asked, he continued, “Make sure no one will see you. Get off the radar.” _

_ Kara jerked her head in a stiff nod. _

_ “If you are discovered, I will ensure your deaths before they hunt me down. Are we clear?” He added. _

_ “…Yes.” _

It was only meant to emphasize the direness of the situation—an empty threat he had given Kara to make sure she errs on the side of caution.

He should have known better.

But make no mistake—it wasn’t her fault and he doesn’t blame her for his current predicament. In fact, if she hadn’t been discovered, he supposes he’d still end up as he is now—just perhaps without getting ambushed.

Connor is ultimately pulled away from his thoughts when he notices Alice approaching him. And although he knows that she was perfectly asleep when he had been conversing with Kara, he still can’t stop the illogical fear of Alice being able to recognize his voice. It would spell trouble and make things a lot more complicated if she does.

“Hello, I’m Alice.” She greets him softly with her hands clasped behind her back, as she reaches the edge of the bench he’s currently sitting on.

Still unable to shake off his initial worry, he lowers down the book he’s holding as he leans a little forward and forces himself to reply, “Hi Alice… My name is Connor.”

“I know.” She says with her voice perking up a bit this time, “You’re Markus’ friend, right?”

A palpable sense of relief washes over Connor as he tries for a smile and responds, “Yes.”

“Can I… sit beside you?” Alice asks.

Though he’s left wondering why Alice would be interested in approaching him of all people—perhaps out of curiosity as he’s a newcomer, Connor replies in the affirmative, “Of course.”

As Alice takes a seat by his left side, she plants her palms down on the bench with her legs swinging lightly over the edge.

Is he supposed to ask her something? But what? He’s not particularly used to conversing with people without any purpose or agenda in mind and he starts floundering about for what to say, suddenly wishing that Markus is with him right now.

In the end, he blurts out the first thing that came to his mind before the silence turns awkward, “Don’t you have classes today?”

Rather lame, he knows.

Alice turns to look at him and replies, “In the afternoon.”

“Ah, I see…” And just as Connor tries to scramble for the next thing to say, he notices Alice’s expression shifting into one of concern, “Is something the matter?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Connor nods.

“Did something bad happen to you too?” Alice asks as she darts her eyes away before continuing in a much quieter voice, “It’s just that… people who come here usually say that something bad happened to them.”

Complicated, Connor thinks is the better word to describe it. But he supposes Alice still sees the world in much simpler terms of black and white. He wonders if that’s a good thing. Maybe? Maybe not.

“Yes. I was… being chased.” He replies and then realizes a second too late that he probably shouldn’t have been too specific about it.

“Really? Me too.”

Worried that Alice might proceed to open up about her horrible experience of having to escape from Cypher’s grasp—from  _ him _ , Connor attempts to divert their conversation away from that route.

“I was told that this place gives protection to people like us.”

“Mm-hmm. They promised to take care of us and keep us safe from bad people.”

“And do you feel safe here?”

“Yes, I like it here. I don’t feel scared anymore.”

And Connor believes her. The fact that she’s able to reach out and talk to him with ease at this point is proof that she’s recovered enough from her ordeal with the help and support of the people surrounding her here. There’s a brightness in her eyes that Connor interprets as something akin to hope. It is very much different compared to the last time he saw her, which was under strenuous circumstances.

It is then that Alice turns her attention to the book on his lap as she curiously asks, “What are you reading?”

Relieved that the topic of their conversation has finally moved onto much safer ground, Connor tries to come up with a way of how to best explain a story about two men, an elf, a dwarf, a wizard and four hobbits going on an adventure without sounding like a boring narrator—at least from a child’s perspective.

Although he loves to read these stories, he admittedly lacks the creativity of recounting them to other people. And despite Connor’s attempts to give it his best shot, he concludes that he’s not fairly doing a good job of it when it leads to Alice looking more confused rather than invested in what he’s talking about.

They do eventually move on to discussing other things—or rather, it’s more of Alice sharing her interests and asking questions while he tries to answer the best he can.

Connor learns that Alice loves to read children’s books because of the pretty pictures. She also loves attending Markus’ art classes. It’s her favorite class, in fact. And hearing about it, Connor’s mind immediately drifts off to imagine how Markus’ class would be like.

Alice also shares about how Kara is her real-life superhero for rescuing her from a scary place, which leads to Connor swallowing a sudden lump in his throat as he worries that their conversation might get back to what he was trying to avoid from the start.

Fortunately, their talk is cut short when they hear Alice’s name being called repeatedly. By the pitch of the approaching voices, Connor assumes they must be Alice’s peers—her friends perhaps?

His assumption turns out to be correct when a girl with a head of short and dark wavy curls pushes through the bushes and exclaims in both relief and admonishment, “Alice! There you are. We thought we lost you.”

We—being her and a boy looking to be the same age as the other two, trailing behind her.

“Sorry…” Alice says with a sheepish smile.

The boy immediately turns his attention to Connor and introduces himself.

“Hi! I’m Patrick.” He then jerks his thumb to the girl beside and continues, “This is Phoebe. We’re Alice’s friends. Nice to meet ya!”

Patrick ends his greeting with a wide grin and Connor is taken by surprise at the amount of energy the child seems to possess that he’s uncertain how to react and he barely notices Phoebe’s much quieter utterance of a hello.

He still returns the greeting nonetheless, albeit a lot calmer compared to Patrick’s level of enthusiasm.

“Hello. My name is Connor. It is…nice to meet you both as well.” At this point, he is convinced that what sure is an awkward smile plastered on his face might deter the two.

But then Patrick suddenly pipes up in excitement, “Hey, I know! Come play hide-and-seek with us!”

…What? And all his thoughts come to an abrupt halt.

Then a few different things happen simultaneously one after the other—First, there’s Phoebe calling out Patrick’s name in a cry of reprimand just as the boy makes a sudden pull at Connor’s wrist and Connor not being able to prevent himself from snatching his hand back in reflex caused by years of experience with responding to such an action. Lastly, a gasp from Alice.

Patrick, who still has his arm stretched out between them, now has a look of apprehension on his face that it pushes Connor to quickly reassure the boy that there is no harm at all to what just occurred.

“I apologize.” Connor says, “You simply took me by surprise.”

Patrick seems to have realized Connor’s discomfort and becomes more subdued compared to his earlier outburst as he replies, “Oh…I’m sorry too. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

“Come on now.” Phoebe says as she pulls on Patrick’s sleeve and then turns to Connor, “We’re really sorry for disturbing you. He just gets really excited when there’s someone new around.”

She then goes back to mildly admonishing her friend, “Patrick, you know you can’t just randomly ask the adults here to play with us. They have other things to do too.”

“But…” Patrick outright pouts in disappointment.

Alice, on the other hand, is looking as if she can’t decide whether to leave with her friends or to stay and hangout with Connor.

“It’s honestly quite fine.” Connor gently tells them, “I’ve been enjoying talking with Alice here before the two of you showed up.”

Witnessing three faces lighting up lets him know that it had been the right thing to say.

At the same time, Connor thinks that humoring them with a game of hide-and-seek might actually be beneficial for what he has in mind. He’s been attempting to scout the estate premises in order to find a way for him to leave undetected. But it’s proving difficult due to the numerous security personnel on patrol.

He makes a decision.

“Also, I wouldn’t mind joining you for one game.”

And seeing the various expressions of joy on their faces—especially Alice—oddly makes him feel like a small weight has been lifted off his chest.

* * *

In hindsight, Connor thinks that this might not have been a very good idea after all. With how vast the whole estate is, he isn’t exactly sure where to start “seeking”. But he berates himself. He’s a highly-trained assassin for goodness’ sakes. Perhaps he should simply think of this as a…unique kind of mission. The most logical starting point would be the institute since it’s the place where they would be most familiar with.

Once Connor enters the main doors, he looks around to see that no one is currently at the lobby.

That certainly crosses out his option of being able to speed things up by asking around. Well then, he supposes he has to do this the arduous way. It’s conveniently fortunate that Markus had shown him around the day before.

He recalls Phoebe reminding Alice and Patrick about the living quarters—situated on the fourth and fifth floors—and the students’ hangout area along the right hallway being off-limits for the duration of the game. To which, Patrick had whined in reply, “I know. I know. And we also can’t go hide at the farm. Happy now?”

Thus, Connor ignores the sound of hushed noises from behind the doors of said hangout area, which indicates that there are quite a number of people inside.

He then decides to give the whole floor a swift and discreet but thorough check. No such luck with the lecture rooms though as the doors are locked. Moving to the left hallway, he peeks through the institute lounge and sees only two occupants—probably teachers or members of the staff. Making a quick scan, he notes that there are no possible nooks where a person can potentially hide themselves. The cupboards he spots are too small for a child to fit into them as well.

Next, he attempts to check the storage room. But just as he discovers that it’s similarly locked, he hears the door to Rose’s office—which is located just across the storage room—slide open. He turns his head in time to see North coming out of the room.

This…is certainly not ideal. Add the fact that North seems to be keeping a tight watch on him when they do cross paths in the past two days, though learning form Markus that she teaches self-defense classes here in the institute would explain her wariness of him. She’s just being cautious and he gives her credit for that.

Not even bothering to hide her suspicious stare, North asks, “What are you doing?”

Noting the sharpness of her voice, Connor does what he can to appeal to her good side.

“Hello North. I’m attempting to find Alice and her friends—Patrick and Phoebe. Have you seen any of them?”

A shift in North’s stance makes her come off as more intimidating this time as she straightens up while crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him. It doesn’t really do anything to faze him as he’s stared down much more menacing people throughout the years. But he understands, nevertheless.

“Why are you looking for them?”

Connor takes a few seconds in trying to come up with an explanation that won’t sound too absurd to the woman standing in front of him, but he decides to settle on the simple truth anyways.

“This might sound surprising to you, but we’re currently…in an active game of hide-and-seek.”

North ends up blinking several times as she takes in what he just said and then finally gives him a long unbelieving look.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I assure you. It’s the truth.”

“And how in the hell did you exactly get roped into this?”

Her tone has gone from accusing to something along the lines of incredulity and Connor thinks it’s a start.

“It was Patrick who suggested it. And quite excitedly so, if I may add. I didn’t think it would be appropriate to disappoint him.” He replies.

“Huh. Okay.” North responds, though how she had dragged that last syllable with an upward inflection makes her lingering doubt quite evident. But then she continues on to casually say, “Well, if you said it’s Patrick then it’s not surprising to say the least. I have absolutely no idea where that kid gets all his energy from.”

Thinking that North, who currently seems to be less hostile might now be willing to help him out, Connor asks, “So, have you seen any of them?”

But he realizes his mistake when he notices a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Why should I tell you? That would be cheating.” She says with a smirk.

And before he could properly react, she turns around while casually waving a hand as she walks away.

“Well, good luck!”

* * *

Connor proceeds up the second floor and turns to the left hallway.

Though North had regrettably ended up being unhelpful, Connor still counts it a success for managing to lessen her suspicion of him.

He decides to check the empty lecture rooms just in case they’re unlocked. No, they aren’t. All that’s left are the lecture room at the end of the corridor and the art room.

It does make Connor curious to know if North has a natural tendency to be wary of people she’s not familiar with due to her field of expertise or if it’s caused by an unpleasant experience in the past.

As he approaches the lecture room, Connor notices that a class is currently ongoing with Josh as the lecturer.

Right. He remembers Josh mentioning about it yesterday, though he didn’t get to say exactly what he teaches. Perhaps he could ask him some other time? But then again, he doesn’t have any plans to stay for the long-term. Still, it could help dispel any further suspicions they might have about him if he makes an effort in communicating with them.

Connor eventually reaches the art room and finds it unlocked. As he enters the door, the first thing he hears is shuffling.

Ah, one of them is here then.

He almost automatically settles into a stealth approach when he remembers that he’s only looking for a child and that this isn’t a mission but merely a child’s game. With this in mind, Connor relaxes his posture and starts walking, making his footfalls neither too light nor too heavy so as not to scare whoever is in hiding.

The shelves located at the front of the room are lined with several paint materials that look to be quite well-organized. In the middle however is an empty space where Connor assumes the instructor or teacher is positioned while conducting the class. This time, he imagines Markus sitting on the red stool, painting on the canvas mounted on the easel as his students look on with rapt attention.

He shakes his head to chase away the distracting thoughts and continues on with his observation.

The sinks are located at the back of the room and although the lights are currently turned off, an ample amount of sunlight is streaming in from the glass windows. The walls, though simplistic with how they’re painted cream, don’t make the room look bare nor plain at all due to the different artworks displayed on top of the long tables.

While curiously looking through the different paintings—one that is an abstract splash of colors, another that is of an elephant beneath a tree, and one more that is a variety of fruits on a golden platter, Connor notices a small movement by the corner of his eye.

He glances to his left and sees Alice, tucked by the corner of the room beside one of the shelves, looking up at him innocently.

Ah, it does make sense why Alice would choose this place. People tend to hide within their own comfort zones. He supposes it applies to Alice’s case as well.

“Hello Alice.” Connor says as he turns to face Alice and leans his weight lightly against the edge of the table by his side, “It seems I have found you.”

Alice’s face breaks out into a smile as she stands up and asks, “Have you found the others?”

“No, you’re the first.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” She remarks with a disappointed pout.

“There’s no need to feel bad. You can always win the next time.”

It doesn’t make the disappointment on her face fully disappear but there’s also a hopeful look as she mulls over the possibility.

“Hmm, I guess you’re right.”

“Well then, I should probably go ahead and continue looking for your friends.” Connor says as he straightens up and asks, “Will you be alright on your own?”

Alice nods. And with that, Connor turns to leave. But just as he has taken a few steps, Alice calls out to him, “Wait.” He turns back around to face her as she continues, “I’m not sure if it helps you, but I saw them run past the entrance when I came here. So, they’re probably hiding somewhere else.”

“That is certainly quite helpful.” Connor responds, “It means I don’t need to search through the rest of the building anymore. Thank you, Alice.”

“You’re welcome.” She replies, a bright smile on her face.

* * *

Connor has just stepped out of the institute’s main entrance when he spots Markus approaching from afar.

“Connor, what are you doing here?” Markus asks once he reaches him, surprise evident on his face which quickly turns to a subtle worried look, “I thought you…”

Connor recalls reassuring Markus yesterday that he would be perfectly fine to head inside the institute proper for a brief tour of its interior. But he’d forgotten that Kara now works as part of the school’s personnel—a negligence on his part, he admits. Therefore, when he unexpectedly saw her down a corridor, he’d tensed up, immediately catching Markus’ attention. Thankfully, she hadn’t spotted them and Markus made the decision to lead him out of the building to avoid a confrontation Connor wasn’t prepared to face anytime soon.

He counts himself lucky for not encountering her so far this morning.

He tucks his hands into the pockets of the oversized hoodie he’s currently wearing, protecting them from the cold morning breeze that just blew past.

“Yes. But I got dragged into a game of hide-and-seek with Alice and her friends. So…” Connor trails off as he shrugs, letting Markus come to the obvious conclusion by himself.

“Wha—Wait a second. You too?” Markus says, face breaking into a wide grin.

“I’m guessing you had a similar experience then.” Connor remarks.

“Yeah, actually.” Markus responds with his grin still in place, “What made you agree to join them?”

Knowing that it’s unwise to tell Markus his real purpose for doing so, he plays it off as spontaneity on his part.

“An impulsive decision I suppose. Or perhaps I was just simply getting bored?”

“You? Impulsive? Nuh-uh.” Markus shakes his head—expression doubtful, “Bored? Carl told me you borrowed his copy of the Fellowship of the Ring. If you’re reading it, then I highly doubt you’re bored, as you claim to be.” Markus finishes with a smug grin this time.

And as his hand nudges the aforementioned book nestled within the hoodie’s pocket, Connor is torn between appreciating the fact that Markus seems to also remember his interests and being concerned that this conversation might turn sour if Markus does end up figuring him out.

His worries are quelled however when Markus’ expression shifts to something fonder as he says, “Well. In any case, I’m glad you agreed. They may be a handful sometimes, but they’re good kids.”

Expectedly so, Connor thinks, as they seem to be well-taken care of here. And he nods in agreement.

After a beat of silence, Markus asks, “Any luck so far?”

“I’ve found Alice—in the art room.” Connor replies.

“Not surprising, as it’s definitely one of her favorite places here.” Markus remarks, a thoughtful look crossing his face, “Who else are you looking for?”

“Patrick and Phoebe.”

“Ah. I’d say ninety percent—you’ll find Patrick in the manor.” Markus confidently tells him, which leads Connor to furrow his brows and wonder why the boy would choose to hide in the same place most of the time if it’ll make finding him easier. But Markus might have mistakenly interpreted Connor’s reaction when he adds, “What? You don’t trust me?”

Is that a pout on his face right now? Connor thinks as he stares at Markus incredulously.

“It’s not that.” Connor quickly clarifies, “I just find it odd why he wouldn’t choose to hide in different places to make it less easy to find him. Based on his earlier enthusiasm, I took a guess that he would be the most adamant in winning.”

“I get what you mean.” Markus says, “But to be honest, I think it’s just an excuse for him to go visit Carl for storytelling time.”

A short pause. And then, “Really.”

“You’ll see.” Markus tells him with a knowing grin.

“If you say so. At least you’re more help than—”

Connor stops himself, thinking he might come off as rude and petty if he’s already complaining about Markus’ friend after just getting to meet her, even if he really has nothing against North.

“Than who?” Markus prods.

Connor darts his eyes away, “North…”

But then realizes that he probably shouldn’t be overthinking it after all as he notices a teasing glint in Markus’ eyes.

“What did she tell you?”

Connor recounts his encounter with North, which resorts to Markus openly laughing at his expense. He doesn’t mind though, if it makes up for the fact that Markus had been subjected to a few rounds of teasing from both himself and Markus’ friends. Besides, he can admit to himself that he quite likes hearing the sound of Markus’ laughter. There was rarely something for either of them to laugh about in the past.

“I’m telling you, don’t mind North. She said almost exactly the same thing to me when I asked the first time around.” Markus tells him.

Probably with less bite though, Connor thinks drily.

“Anyway,” Markus continues, “As for Phoebe, I don’t recall finding her in certain fixed spots. But she does seem to prefer the area by the cluster of houses.”

“I see. How often do you do this with them?” Connor asks, “You seem quite familiar with where they might usually go.”

Markus shrugs, “A few times. Rose actually helped me out by giving me clues when it took me almost the whole afternoon to find them the first time I got dragged into it. She probably decided to take pity on me as I had been close to panicking then.” He pauses and continues with a light chuckle, “I didn’t exactly want to be blamed for a number of missing children, you know.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t.” Connor remarks softly.

Markus eventually apologizes and excuses himself as he has a piano lesson scheduled with one of the students which will be starting in a few minutes.

As Markus heads inside the building, Connor stares at his retreating form while coming to the conclusion that Markus indeed thrives in this place—with his friends, the children, and Carl. And yet, there’s still one roadblock for him to achieve his full freedom—his past.

Connor wonders what was going through his friend’s thoughts after he brought the issue up. Markus had stayed mostly silent and brooding afterwards and Connor had felt guilty for ruining the good mood, though he is relieved to see that Markus seems to be in better spirits today.

* * *

When Connor reaches the area where the various houses are located, he wonders if there’s a point in checking each one. It could potentially either have him make a fool out of himself or waste his time altogether.

Connor sighs. Again, he attempts to see the merit of why he had agreed to this in the first place. Ah yes, he was supposed to be searching for a way he could get out of the estate undetected. He hasn’t found one yet, unfortunately.

He does spot some trees clustered together a distance away and decides to check around that area first and leave the houses for later, which turns out to be a good decision. There in the middle area enclosed by the trees is a playground. The usual seesaw can be seen, together with the monkey bars, a slide, and at the center of it is Phoebe—sitting alone by the swing, facing away from him.

He starts walking towards her and she must have heard his footsteps as she turns to look over her shoulder and smiles at him. Once he reaches the swing, he leans his side against the edge by the further end and tries to come up with what to say.

Phoebe beats him to it when she looks up at him, small hands holding onto the chains suspended from the frame and asks, “Can you…?

“Sure, of course.” He replies.

Connor positions himself behind her and gives her back a small push, repeating the action until there is enough momentum gained for her to swing back and forth.

The sound of laughter suddenly fills the air and Connor catches a look of pure joy on Phoebe’s face, leading him to suddenly feel a small surge of happiness as he sees her being so carefree. But he is also reminded of how he never got to have this kind of moment when he had been a child himself.

As the swing slows down and comes to a stop, Phoebe tilts her head up and asks, “What’s the matter? You were smiling just a while ago.”

“I…was?”

“Mm-hmm. Just a very small smile. But it’s still a smile.” She cocks her head to the side as if trying to observe him. A beat later, Phoebe says, “Jerry is usually the one who comes and plays with us here.”

Connor furrows his brows in confusion at the abrupt change of topic, “Jerry?”

“He works at the institute.”

“Is he a teacher?” He asks out of curiosity.

“No, he’s a staff.” Phoebe replies, “But he says that he likes it best when he gets to see us have fun. Sometimes, Markus does too. But Alice usually hogs all his attention now.”

Connor lightly chuckles at how Phoebe had seemed to pout at that last bit.

He can take a guess as to why Alice has managed to grab Markus’ attention though. She had almost ended up the way they did and Markus probably feels a sort of attachment that stemmed from empathizing with her.

“Oh, I know!” Phoebe suddenly pipes up, “You and Markus can come play with us together next time.”

Connor blinks in surprise at the suggestion and he can’t stop his mind from entertaining the thought of Markus pushing Phoebe on the swing or perhaps assisting Patrick by the monkey bars while he himself is seated on the ground, reading a story to Alice as she listens with rapt attention.

It’s a rather far-fetched imagery, though admittedly pleasant to think about. He mildly shakes his head while noticing Phoebe’s smile turning into a grin. And then she giggles, to which he’s suddenly left confused.

“So, did I win?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I have yet to find Patrick.”

“Aww… Well, we should go then so that you can look for him.” Phoebe says as she jumps off the swing and starts to head back, with him trailing behind her.

Belatedly, Connor realizes that she had been trying to cheer him up.

By the time they get through the small copse of trees, Connor notices a group of security personnel patrolling around the area some distance away from where they are standing.

“Is there trouble?” He asks in concern, voice low enough to be heard just by Phoebe.

She glances to where he’s looking and shakes her head, “I don’t think so. We were told that they’re guarding the entrances to the underground tunnels.”

Finally! A possible way out. Admittedly, it would have been easier if he’d simply asked Markus, his friends—except North, or even Carl. But it might arouse their suspicions and essentially reveal his plans and that’s rather counterproductive.

Phoebe continues to explain, “They said that those are the only ways in and out of the estate for now. I don’t why though.”

Hmm. Not telling the children the whole truth to keep them from panicking and getting afraid. Understandable.

It is then that Connor catches sight of Simon coming from the same direction where the security personnel are currently on patrol. He’s accompanied by another man with auburn hair who seems to be talking quite animatedly with him.

A look of recognition flashes across Phoebe’s face as she points to the man while looking up at Connor with an excited smile.

“That’s Jerry! And you probably already know Simon, right?”

“Yes.” He replies, nodding in confirmation.

“They probably came from Greektown.” Phoebe remarks.

She must have taken a guess based on the paper bag Simon’s carrying, which is labeled Bellini Paints. Connor remembers passing by an establishment in Greektown named as such when he went to pick up his gear at a nearby CyberLife store.

He then deduces that it’s probably Markus’ friends who gathers and picks up the things he needs outside of the estate. And Connor is once again led back to his conversation with Markus—of how it seems that he’s only living a façade of a free life, of how his past is still holding him in invisible shackles, as if mocking him for thinking he could live his life with some semblance of normalcy.

* * *

As Connor enters the manor, he can hear Carl’s voice followed by a child’s excited cry of—What happens next? What happens next?—carrying over through the living room doors.

It turns out that Markus’ ninety percent estimate is quite accurate after all, as is his remark about Patrick simply wanting to hear a story from Carl. It’s certainly not hard to imagine. With a mind so well-versed in the arts, storytelling might be something Carl indulges in as a pastime.

Connor quietly goes through the doors.

Carl is looking quite comfortable on his wheelchair, face animated as he spins what possibly is quite an exciting tale to Patrick who is seated cross-legged on the floor, staring up at the older man while listening in awe and fascination. David is dutifully standing behind his charge with a hint of fondness showing on his usually poker face.

Not really wanting to break the jovial mood in the room, Connor debates whether or not he should interrupt and make his presence known. But then David looks up and nods to him in acknowledgement, which he aptly returns. They’ve at least gotten past the awkward tension brought about by the incident just a few nights ago. It’ll take a while for his injury to fully heal up, but it’s nothing he isn’t used to.

Having David notice him has both Carl and Patrick simultaneously turning their heads toward his direction, with Patrick immediately whining out, “Uuuugh! I can’t believe you found me already. Now I can’t listen to the rest of the story.”

Carl must have noticed a look of confusion settling on his face which leads the older man to explain, “We had an agreement that I’ll tell Patrick here a story. But I’ll have to stop once he has been found.”

“I see.” Connor remarks then tells Patrick in consolation, “That may be so. But you’d be happy to know that you won this round.”

“Really!?” Patrick exclaims, face lightening up in obvious joy. “Yey!”

And Connor can’t help but break into a small smile.

“Well then. Off you go now, young lad.” Carl says, voice firm but full of warmth, “We can continue this next time.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

“Okay!”

And with that, Patrick springs up from the floor and starts running off. But just as he’s almost through the door, he turns around—a wide grin on his face and says, “Hey, let’s play again some time.”

Connor is once again caught by surprise at the child’s enthusiasm and before he can voice out a reply, Patrick has already left the room in an excited sprint.

He sighs. By the time he turns around, Carl and David are openly giving him amused looks.

“Hmm, not bad for your first time.” Carl says with an approving nod.

Connor cocks his head a bit to the side as he admits sheepishly, “I… might have had some help.”

“Ah.” With the knowing and fond look the older man is giving him, it’s safe to assume that Carl knows exactly  _ who _ . Carl adds, “I’m glad to see you getting acquainted with the people here, especially the kids.”

“It was… Alice who approached me.” Connor shares as he remembers the slight fear he had felt earlier when Alice had done so.

“Oh?” Carl reacts, intrigued.

“She didn’t recognize me.”

“Then all the better.” When Connor is left perplexed as to why that is, Carl continues on and says, “That means she doesn’t have any preconceived notion of who you are and simply sees you as someone who she feels comfortable enough to approach.”

Connor takes that in and relief settles over him knowing he made the right decision to go against his mission orders that fateful night.

“Now then.” Despite the warm smile on Carl’s face, there’s a challenging glint in his eyes as he says, “Since you’re already here, how about that rematch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- A bit slow paced but things will be picking up again soon. ;-)
> 
> \- Phoebe’s appearance is based on Alice’s concept art.


	7. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus gets confronted by North. And after days of thinking about Connor's question, he finally comes to a decision.

_ “Are we just supposed to hide for the rest of our lives?” _

It’s been three days since Connor thought to voice out his sentiments and Markus is unable to get the question—or even the rest of their conversation, out of his head. Come to think of it, that had been merely a rhetorical question. A question he doesn’t have a definite answer to.

No matter how much he tries to come up with different alternatives, it only ever leads to the same thing—either be on the run or stay in hiding, with the latter being obviously not an ideal option at the moment. In fact, there’s only really one solution to this problem.

But the real question is—Is he even ready for that?

There’s a reason why he decided to leave behind everything that has to do with his past. And now, he’s supposed to turn back and face all of that. Again.

No. He’s definitely not ready.

Does that make him a coward?

It shouldn’t, right? He just wants to live in peace.

But then… Maybe Leo had been right all along.

Leo had made an unexpected visit during one quiet dinner a few weeks ago, with the purpose of his usual penchant for  _ asking _ for money from his father. It should have gone how it always goes, with Carl ending the conversation with a firm no and Leo leaving the manor in an angry huff. But Leo had been very high on red ice that night. With his own added presence in the room—And really, he should’ve just remained silent, but he couldn’t just stand there doing nothing while Leo threw accusations at Carl on not loving him as his son—things had gone downhill.

_ “You know what? I’ve been thinking. You suddenly come barging into our lives one day and I don’t even know how or why you ended up here with us. You never even step foot outside the estate. Why’s that, huh?” _

_ “Hit a sore spot, didn’t I?” _

_ “What? Did some bad shit in the past and you had to run away and hide?” _

_ “Heh. You’re not so  _ **_perfect_ ** _ after all.” _

One taunt after another. Markus tried his best to stand his ground, refusing to rise to the bait. But he’s only human. And what Leo had been accusing him of were all technically true.

_ “See, there’s only one thing to understand here. It’s that you’re a  _ **_hypocrite_ ** _. And a  _ **_coward_ ** _. You’re a coward, you hear! You’re a fucking co—what the fuck!?” _

Leo’s taunting had finally made him snap and he’d ended up pinning the other man against the wall with his left forearm. David had been behind him, holding back his other arm to prevent him from fully attacking Leo with a punch to the face.

Once he’d come back to his senses, he had immediately backed off of course. But the damage had been done.

So much for swearing off violence. Then again, he’d managed to easily kill Perkin’s men without feeling an ounce of remorse. To be fair, they had orders to take Connor down and he couldn’t let that happen.

Markus sighs, mouth twisting into a frustrated frown.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

He’s startled out of his internal dilemma and the unpleasant memory to see North, arms crossed in front of her, leaning by the doorway of the art room.

He isn’t even sure how long he’s been standing in front of a table, blankly staring off at nothing while deeply stuck in his own swirling thoughts.

What was he supposed to be doing again?

He then notices the used paintbrushes and palettes scattered on the table, suddenly remembering that he had been planning to clean up.

“North.” Markus starts picking up the paintbrushes while glancing at his friend, “Sorry I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I noticed.” North says with a pointed look as she moves away from the doorway and proceeds to head further inside the room, “How was your class?”

“Well, we were working on Van Gogh’s Sunflowers today.” Markus says as he gestures to the finished artworks surrounding them.

North stops to stare at the painting nearest to her and Markus wonders if she sees only the brushstrokes and the colors. Or does she see something more?

“So, what brings you here?” Markus asks as he takes the bundle of paintbrushes and a few palettes to the sink at the back.

He’s certainly not expecting to see North grabbing the remaining palettes off the table and heading to the sink adjacent to his.

“To help you out.” She replies in a way as if she is merely stating the obvious.

To be fair, she does exactly as she says—opening the faucet and starts removing the paint from the palette. But he’s known her for five years. Either she has a favor to ask or she’s curious about something she knows is a sensitive topic and opting to go for the less blunt approach that she usually takes.

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“No really, why are you here?” Markus asks as he also gets started with the task of cleaning the paintbrushes.

It takes North a few seconds—closer to a minute actually—before she reveals the real reason as to why she’s  _ helping _ him out.

“So, you and Connor.”

Markus briefly pauses and blinks.

“What about me and Connor?”

“Something going on between the two of you?”

“Okay North. Hold up.” This time, Markus stops what he’s doing altogether and turns to look at his friend. “What brought this on? I thought I already made things clear,” he says, not unkindly and with a patient smile.

“Yeeaah—” North glances at him, eyes narrowed then ends with a deadpan look, “No. I don’t believe that.”

She then promptly sets aside the palette she has just finished cleaning and picks up another one.

“What? But why?” Markus asks as he huffs out an incredulous laugh.

“For starters, you’re staring.” North replies without missing a beat.

He’s suddenly hit with a sense of déjà vu as he vaguely remembers Chloe telling him the same thing.

_ “Markus, you’re staring.” _

“And now that you’ve been brooding in the past few days—”

“I am not—”

“Yes, you are.” Markus clamps his mouth shut as North whirls to face him and pins him with another pointed look. “Simon and Josh are getting worried by the way.”

Fine. He is. But he just can’t help his automatic response of trying to reassure his friends that he’s perfectly alright. He has always thought it better to keep his worries to himself than let them fret over him, though it’s not to say that he doesn’t appreciate their concern.

Simon had asked him if he was okay when he’d brought him the new paints from Bellini’s and Josh had done the same when he’d caught him staring off at nothing for a long stretch of time.

“Anyways. As I was saying,” North continues, “You get this permanent scowl on your face when you brood but you don’t get to see how that scowl disappears and your face lights up every time he’s in your line of vision. And then you’re suddenly in a much better mood again.”

He…does? He’s not even aware of it.

His silence seems to bolster North’s confidence with her theory though. With her expression turning a bit on the smug side, she says, “Add the fact that the two of you seem to have your own little bubble every time you talk to each other.”

It probably should bother him that North has managed to observe this much in a short period of time. It’s been what—just four days? Either she’s just very curious about Connor or it could be that he’s being—

He just misses his friend. That he hasn’t seen in a decade.

There. That’s good enough of a reason.

He turns away from her, holding out the paintbrush in his hand back under the running water to get it cleaned up.

“Look, we just have a lot to catch up on.” Markus says.

A quick glance back at North tells him that she’s not buying it.

“I have a lot more to add if you want to hear it.” She says, as if trying to goad him into reacting the way she wants him to.

“No North. You don’t have to.” He says with as much calmness and patience he can muster up, hoping that she’ll drop the subject. “Besides, what you’ve said so far doesn’t necessarily mean something’s going on.”

“Oh,” That upward inflection in her voice sounds as if she just caught him admitting something, though he’s not certain as to what that might be. “But you’re not denying it.”

He gives her his full attention this time, eyebrows raised both in confusion and incredulity as he asks, “Denying what? Didn’t I just answer your question?”

“That you like him more than just a friend.”

Markus stops at that. He doesn’t even argue the point that North never explicitly asked nor mentioned anything that will allude to it. Or is it an attempt at catching him off guard? If it is, then he’s got to hand it to her.

He turns away slowly, averting his eyes from her and ends up staring out through the window in front of him.

But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? He’s been trying to ignore it since the night of the ambush—when he first caught a glimpse of those brown eyes again after far too long. He’s just chalking it up to how he’d always cared about Connor ever since they were kids, how he’s just channeling the protective side of him, how he  _ misses _ him, just as he told North.

He can’t exactly pinpoint as to when he had started seeing his friend in a different light.

During the times when Markus had felt despondent over how their daily lives then had been a routine of endless training and mental conditioning, Connor had always been willing to listen to his frustrations. He’s never one for words of comfort but his presence alone had always soothed Markus, knowing he wasn’t alone in all of it. And even though Connor had been more malleable when it came to their training, more accepting of their circumstance, he knew he could trust Connor with his life.

If Markus himself preferred to show his concern whenever Connor got hurt or bogged down during a particularly rough training day through constant reminders of being more careful the next time around or with words of reassurances, then Connor expressed his through subtle reprimands of  _ You shouldn’t have let him get the upper hand you _ or  _ Stop caring for them too much. You’ll only get yourself injured more. _

He’d gotten too used to Connor’s blunt and sometimes awkward way of showing that he cares to the point that Markus had simply found it rather endearing.

On better days, Connor would surprisingly share things about himself on his own without having the need for Markus to encourage him in doing so.

He’d learned how Connor likes to drink a hot mug of chocolate, how he prefers to read physical books because it feels more immersive, and how he always makes sure to wear socks to bed since he’s not very fond of the cold.

He’d selfishly lapped up on those tidbits with the knowledge that Connor had willingly shared them with him.

Again, Markus isn’t sure when he started seeing Connor as…something more. If he had to take a guess, he’d say it’s probably not because of a single, specific moment but a combination of all that. However, he could perfectly recall the exact point in time when the realization had dawned on him.

It was during one of their casual parkour races at the abandoned buildings. Connor had been working to perfect a vault to cat leap combination which he’d been practicing for quite some time. Once he successfully managed to do so and after landing into a graceful roll, he’d immediately turned to look at Markus with a triumphant grin.

Compared to Markus, it has always been quite natural for Connor to be reserved with his emotions. And due to the fact that they were trained to repress said emotions, it had been the first time he’d seen Connor with a look of such open excitement on his face that it came as a shock to his system.

Feeling as if his whole world had stopped on its axis, there was nothing else he could do but to stare transfixed at the sight. And just as his heart skipped a beat, his foot also took a misstep, leading him to lose his momentum and balance after just a small jump over.

Ultimately, he’d ended up slipping and falling onto a puddle of water, landing embarrassingly on his ass.

Yes, it’s the exact same incident that Connor had deliberately chosen to remind him about just the other day. Luckily, he never found out that  _ he _ had been the cause.

But unfortunately for him—or maybe fortunately, come to think about it—Chloe had him figured out and he remembers the first time she had called him out on it.

Approximately two weeks after the realization that he might be crushing on his friend and going through the panic that went with it, Connor had wanted a proper race. Without any mishaps—on Markus’ part.

_ “Make sure to not fall down this time around.” Connor said with a small cheeky grin as he walked on ahead to their starting point. _

_ “Hey, I ain’t perfect. And it was one time, okay?” Markus called out after him and sighed. _

_ “Connor’s right, Markus.” He whirled around in surprise to see Chloe casually leaning against one of the graffiti-filled walls, blonde hair tied into its usual low ponytail. Though it seemed as if she was merely observing him calmly, there was a certain sharpness in her eyes that felt like she knew all the secrets he wanted to keep hidden. “Be careful. Don’t fall too hard.” _

_ Markus froze in his tracks as Chloe gave him a knowing look before leaving and heading back into the facility. _

Though the words had been said in a tone resembling a friendly advice, Markus had immediately come to the conclusion that Chloe  _ knew _ . He wasn’t sure how she did. He never really bothered to ask. But maybe she’d been observing him for some time then, much like how North has been observing him now and he hasn’t even noticed.

Even though Chloe was being cryptic about it, her message had been clear. If she managed to figure him out, then what’s to say that Amanda and her trainers won’t? At the same time, it also served as a reminder to him about the rules on getting attached.

That was many years ago. He’s never really managed to heed Chloe’s sage advice. And that almost led to—

No! He doesn’t want any recollection—even a snippet—of that memory.

“Was he an old flame?” North’s voice together with the sound of running water in the background eventually pulls him back to the present. “The one that got away maybe? Or—”

“North,” With a tight smile, Markus gently stops his friend from continuing. “Can we please just drop it?”

Markus is uncertain as to what North is seeing on his face at the moment, but she does as he requested.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go overboard. I guess curiosity just got the best of me since you never really talk much about your past,  _ even  _ if we’re supposed to be friends.” North says, with her lips turning into a joking smirk at that last bit. She then puts her hands up as if to imply that she’s backing off, “Nevertheless, I won’t pry anymore.”

Markus knows that North isn’t really taking a jab at him. At one point, they both have come to an understanding that they each have a part of their own pasts that they’d rather not let anyone find out, though Markus has an inkling about North’s being a childhood trauma that Simon had accidentally let slip.

“Thanks.” Markus says, “And sorry for worrying you guys. It’s just one of those times, you know.”

North nods in understanding and says, “Well, why don’t you and Connor come over and chill with us one of these days? We might plan for a game night, depending on Simon’s work schedule.”

“Sounds good.” Markus’ smile widens this time around.

* * *

That night, Markus enters the living room to the sight of Carl watching the daily news with a serious expression. A glance at the television screen makes his own face twist into a slight frown as he discovers tonight’s headlines.

**[Detroit: Home of World’s First Trillion Dollar Company]**

_ “Our top story tonight: Detroit-based computer systems developer and manufacturer CyberLife—founded by Elijah Kamski twenty years ago—has officially become the world’s first trillion-dollar company and is currently experiencing the fastest economic growth in history…” _

Elijah Kamski… He was kicked out of the board around a decade ago. It wasn’t known to the public as to the reason why, but Markus knows for sure that there’s something suspicious about the whole thing. There has been no word of him ever since—as if he totally disappeared from the face of the earth.

Could Amanda have had anything to do with it? It’s highly plausible, given the fact that she’s cunning enough to use her position as the head of CyberLife’s R&D Department and as a member of the board to instigate something to her advantage.

Now that CyberLife has reached this milestone, she has all the resources that she needs to continue what she has been doing all this time—recruiting orphaned children and having them trained into ruthless assassins.

It’s an endless cycle. And for those who dare break the rules and walk away like himself, Chloe, and now, Connor, there’s no escaping what they have been a part of, no matter how much they try.

Unless they do something about it.

“You’re bound to get wrinkles this early if you keep frowning like that.” Carl has definitely mastered the way of distracting Markus from his occasionally more somber moods. And that certainly pulled a small laugh out of him. “So, what’s got you looking like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders?”

Markus is almost all too willing to tell Carl about his current thoughts. It has always been easy to talk to the older man, who never hesitates to be a listening ear during the times when Markus’ own self-doubts decide to manifest themselves. Carl is also quite generous in providing whatever advice Markus needs. Wisdom—that can have only come from his own life experiences and struggles—evident in each and every piece of advice Carl has given him.

But at the moment, it doesn’t seem appropriate to let Carl know what he has in mind. Markus is pretty sure that he won’t take it lightly once he finds out that the person he’s supposed to keep protected intends to walk back into the very territory of those wanting him dead.

And so, Markus opts to go for something of a half-truth as he gestures to the television.

“It’s just  _ so _ frustrating that Amanda has all the resources she needs at her disposal and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Those who are involved are turning a blind eye to what’s going on—either because they’re fine with it or they just don’t care. And for those that do care, they end up fearing for their lives.”

Markus vaguely hears the broadcaster moving on to another news story—something related to the raid at the Eden Club that occurred a few nights ago. But it fails to grab his full attention while his thoughts have now started mulling over the possibilities at the lengths Amanda might go through to hunt them down.

From his time with Cypher, he knows Amanda isn’t one to waste resources. But now that her resources have grown exponentially, what’s not to say that she’ll change her tactics? If worse comes to worst, Connor might end up being right after all in his assumption that she could target everyone here in the estate, as long as it serves her goal.

“Markus, you know how much I understand this frustration of yours. And you don’t need to hide what you  _ really _ feel about it.” Carl says as Markus lifts his head to look him directly in the eye, not even noticing that he has started staring at a random spot on the living room floor.

“Don’t look so surprised.” Carl continues, “I can see the fire in your eyes. I know you want to fight back. But think about it carefully, Markus. You said it yourself. She has all the resources. It is not possible for you to go against a whole organization by yourself.”

_ Even if you have Connor with you. _

With a pointed look from Carl, Markus clearly hears the unspoken sentiment.

“Let someone who has the means and machinery do it in your stead.” Carl finishes.

“But who?” Markus responds, mentally wincing at how he’d almost snapped at the older man in frustration. But Carl simply let it pass.

“She would have made enemies over the years, Markus. It’s impossible not to. They might just be biding their time, waiting for the right opportunity to strike.” Carl says as he proceeds to pat his arm, giving it a firm hold. At the same time, he pins Markus with a stare as if imploring him to think things through, “Be patient and have faith.”

Admittedly, Carl has a point. However, Markus is past the point of being contented with just waiting around until something does happen. For once, he doesn’t plan on heeding Carl’s advice. But for now, it’s best to let him think that he will.

“Okay.” Markus says with a reluctant nod.

That seems to have satisfied Carl as he lets his hold on Markus’ arm go and leans back again comfortably on his wheelchair.

“Well then, I’ll be retiring for the night.” Carl tells him with a fond smile.

After bidding a good night to Carl, Markus watches as David escorts the older man out of the living room. And once he is finally alone, he looks up at the balcony and locks eyes with Connor.

Markus wonders if the fiery determination he sees in those brown orbs is the same as what Carl has seen in his own.

* * *

Much later into the night as he’s about to go to bed, Markus spots Connor leaning against the wall just beside the door to his room—If Connor’s going to be sticking around, then there’s no harm in calling it as  _ his _ , right?—with his arms crossed and face set into a small scowl.

Has Connor been waiting for him?

Connor then swiftly turns his head to his direction, giving him a sharp look as he uncrosses his arms and moves away from the wall.

“What are you planning, Markus?”

Markus wishes Connor hadn’t heard his conversation with Carl. On one hand, he knows his chance of success is obviously much higher if they team up. But his instinctive  _ need  _ to protect Connor—knowing that despite his claims of being a person of logic, he tends to have a lack of self-preservation instincts especially at the most crucial of moments—instantly overrides that thought. He has yet to come up with a concrete and foolproof plan but if he has to do this alone just to make sure he can keep Connor safe and away from Amanda, then he’ll take his chances.

“You heard Carl. He’s right. We might have been able to fight off Perkin’s ambush team but there’s no point in attempting a suicide mission that we have low chances of succeeding in.” Markus says, in a tone that more or less conveys a reluctant acceptance to Carl’s opinion on the matter.

Though Connor’s sharp gaze doesn’t falter one bit, he doesn’t react any further.

Thinking he’s off the hook, Markus starts walking past him with the purpose of heading to his own room. But again, it all comes back to the fact that they’ve known each other for  _ years _ . And Connor’s sudden grip at his forearm makes him halt in his tracks altogether.

He turns his head and there’s frustration, worry and—Oh, he knows that look. And he immediately regrets his decision of trying to bluff his way through when it meant he’d end up upsetting Connor.

“Don’t lie to me, Markus.” Connor tells him and the next thing he knows, he’s being pulled inside the room. Once the door slides shut, Connor lets go of his arm, faces him and asks, “Now tell me, what are you really planning to do?”

For a moment, Markus hesitates as he thinks back on his earlier question to himself—if he’s ready. But then he comes to the realization that sometimes, even if you’re not, you just have to go for it.

He sighs, taking a seat on the lone swivel chair nearby as he leans forward with his elbows on his knees and stares at the floor.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day—if we’re just going to be hiding for the rest of our lives, if it’s alright with me to live this way.” Markus pauses then looks up to see Connor leaning against the door with a patient look on his face as if encouraging him to continue with what he has to say.

“I guess you’re right.” Markus says with a rueful smile. Then he darts his eyes away until his gaze settles at a random spot on the wall.

“I get to do what I want. I’m allowed to feel. And best of all, I don’t have to take people’s lives against my will under anyone’s orders.” He pauses, “But in reality, there are still so many things that I  _ can’t _ do. And it seems as if I’m right back at square one now that they’ve managed to track me down.”

A short stretch of silence.

“Maybe it’s time I finally do something about it.” Markus adds as an afterthought.

He hears—rather than sees—Connor shifting his position from where he was leaning against the door.

“Alright. So, what’s our plan of action?”

Markus swiftly turns his head around and straightens up in his seat.

The objection on his face must have been quite obvious since Connor’s eyebrows shoot up as he asks, “What? You think you’re doing this alone?”

Judging by Connor’s tone, it seems as if he feels offended at the thought that Markus even entertained the idea of leaving him out of it.

Markus opens his mouth to respond. But he is suddenly unsure of how to convey his worries in a way that will make Connor understand instead of leading to an argument. Having to remember the last time they did still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Look, I’m obviously coming with you. And you can’t convince me otherwise.” Connor says, eyes turning soft for a moment before shifting to a look that says Markus should be ready for some incoming sass. “Besides. As you’ve pointed out, I was the one who planted the idea in your head in the first place. And logically, our chances of success would be higher if we do this together.”

Well, he can’t fault that logic, having arrived at the same conclusion earlier. So, he acquiesces.

And when he sees a small upturn of Connor’s lips, he resists the urge to stare for far longer than he should.

Connor eventually moves to sit on the bed while reiterating his question regarding their plan of action.

“I’m still working on the specifics. Best bet is to infiltrate as stealthily as we can.” Markus starts.

“But first we need to figure out how to slip past the estate security without alerting Carl and David.” Connor remarks.

Good point. It takes a few seconds for Markus to think through their options when he remembers—

“The gallery viewing—it’s a few days from now. David will be accompanying Carl to the event so that solves one problem. We can leave that night.”

“Alright.” Connor nods.

“Give me a day or two to come up with a plan on how to get past Allen’s security. We can steal the gear we need from the secret backroom in one of the CyberLife stores.”

“No.” Comes Connor’s immediate reply as he shakes his head, “Amanda will be immediately alerted and we won’t have the element of surprise.”

“Fair point. Then we find another way to get the gear we need.”

Connor glances down for a moment in contemplation before he looks back at him, “Actually. I might know someone who can help us with that.”

It’s ironic, Markus thinks. For the past five years, all he ever wanted was to stay in this bubble of comfort that he has found, swearing off violence and to just enjoy this new life he has. And now, he’s decided to get back right in. But if it leads to them finally getting a chance at real freedom, then Markus thinks it’s worth it anyway.

* * *

On the occasional times when Markus offers to help Adam out at the farm, he would sometimes stay for a short chat over lunch. If Rose happens to be present, they usually have a lot more stuff to talk about so he ends up staying for a longer time.

But Rose isn’t here right now though—which is quite convenient for what he has in mind.

Halfway through their lunch, Markus cuts the companionable silence as he asks, “Hey uh, can I ask for your help on something?”

Adam pauses midway of lifting a spoonful of food into his mouth and puts it back down on the plate. “Yeah, sure. What is it?”


	8. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets to know more about Josh as he helps him out with something and Markus' nightmare makes Connor recall a chilling memory from their past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Had to bump up the rating due to the type of violence depicted in this chapter, which is sort of like a Hunger Games-ish forced violence among teenagers (TW).
> 
> Information on the new characters in this chapter can be found on the end notes.

Josh, as Connor learns, has a knack for building and fixing things. He discovered that he had a natural affinity for it back in his adolescent days. Armed with pre-existing knowledge and guidance from additional research, he managed to repair his broken computer all by himself. Due to this, he was encouraged to take up an engineering course by the time he reached college.

Curiosity piqued by Josh’s career choice, Connor had inquired as to why teach when he could be missing out on several opportunities by working at a large company or the possibility to even set up his own. To which Josh had replied, “Been there done that actually.”

After Josh had finished his studies, he’d been among the many green and wide-eyed fresh graduates who were too hungry and determined to prove something to the world. At first, it had been his goal to climb up the ladder and due to his skills, he did end up landing a good job. But eventually, he came to realize his dislike for workplace politics and company bureaucracies. There had been too much competitiveness. And instead of thriving in what should have a collaborative work environment, the toxicity had burned him out.

However, getting the opportunity to conduct a few workshops during the time he was employed led to Josh’s discovery of his love for teaching. He’d ended up quitting his job altogether to pursue a teaching career, starting out with a few temporary jobs until he found out about Carl’s institute through Rose—who’s a family friend—around four years ago.

“So, here I am now.” Josh says with a grunt as Connor helps him in lifting one of the bigger canvases onto the back compartment of the vehicle parked just outside the institute building, “It feels a lot more fulfilling to impart your knowledge to someone who’s just enthusiastic to learn.”

It’s easy to see why Josh and Markus get along well. They’re both considerate, a bit laid-back and they tend to see the good in most things. Out of Markus’ friends, Josh is the first one who made an effort to reach out to him. Connor appreciates it, even if it was under the guise of seeking help in loading the students’ artworks for the gallery event tomorrow night.

Though they started out with a bit of small talk, their topic eventually transitioned into something more relevant until it led to Connor’s earlier question. And now, worried about coming off as too inquisitive, he takes it upon himself to apologize, just in case.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Josh says, “Actually, you’re not the first one to ask.”

As it turned out, North made a somewhat similar remark to Josh when he first arrived, saying she found it odd that Josh ended up as a teacher instead of pursuing a career in engineering or research and development, especially with the amount of passion and interest he has for the field.

“Speaking of North, she doesn’t seem to like me very much.” Connor says.

“Well, North can be…” Josh squints in thought for a moment. They’re currently en route to the manor, having finished loading up the remaining canvases, with Josh manually driving the van and Connor in the passenger seat.

“…a bit intense at times.” Josh continues, “To be honest, I remember getting intimidated by her the first time we met. But as I got to know her, I realized there’s more to that toughness that she puts up in front of everyone. It just takes a while for her to put her trust in others.”

After a pause and quick glance, Josh tells him, “She’ll warm up to you eventually. Trust me.”

Connor highly doubts that.

Once they get to the manor, Connor looks off to the side where a motorcycle that he has been seeing since the first day he arrived is currently parked.

“Do you ride one?” Josh asks as he notices what has grabbed Connor’s attention.

“Occasionally.” Connor says with a small shrug, “Comes with the job.”

“Makes sense.”

When he told them the made-up story of why he got ambushed, Simon was the one who asked the question of how he got into that kind of job. Connor came up with something vague, nothing too elaborate but believable enough—that he was at one point offered a simple job through an acquaintance. It was supposed to be just a one-time thing. But he turned out to be good at it. Then one job led to another until things got complicated and eventually, the whole fiasco happened.

Come to think of it, there’s actually a lot of truth in what he said. Just that—it’s quite toned down compared to what the real story is.

Being that he was practically still a stranger to them, they respectfully didn’t throw any further questions at him. But he did take note of their reactions. Simon had seemed intrigued, as if he wanted to know more. North’s expression turned guarded but she had remained silent as well.

Josh on the other hand had looked contemplative for a moment, without any judgement in his eyes, before he proceeded to ask about his and Markus’ time at the “foster home”. Of which, Connor had been able to talk about with much ease. It’s comforting to know that Josh seems to understand his discomfort in discussing anything related to his supposed job.

True to the point, Josh leaves it at that and says, “Well, I’d advise you not to touch that one.”

At first, Connor had assumed that it was Markus’.

“It’s Leo’s, isn’t it?”

“Markus told you?” Connor nods. And for a moment, Josh’s expression turns into a small disapproving frown, “Hmm, what else did he tell you about Leo?”

“Not much. Just that he’s Carl’s biological son who doesn’t come by very often.” Connor gets the impression that Markus doesn’t like talking about Leo very much, so he didn’t push the topic any further than necessary, “I gathered he wasn’t comfortable talking about him.”

“That’s to be expected. They’re not exactly on good terms.” Josh remarks as he gestures for Connor to follow him into the manor. And as Connor trails behind him, Josh continues, “Well actually, it’s more of Leo antagonizing Markus ever since Carl took him in. It’s weird, honestly. As far as I know, Leo’s never really been close to Carl. They kind of have an estranged father-and-son relationship. But when Markus came into the picture, I guess he got all jealous when he realized that Carl seems to be treating Markus as his own son more than Carl does with him.”

And it suddenly hits Connor that there’s a high chance that Leo might have been the one responsible for selling Markus out. He’s the only one so far who seems to have something personal against Markus.

If so, how did he manage to do it? A different informant is most likely involved. And Connor doubts that Leo has any knowledge of Markus’ past or his connection with Cypher. If he did, he would have already ratted Markus out ages ago.

To be honest, the technicality of it all doesn’t matter at this point. But it does leave Connor wondering if the thought had already crossed Markus’ mind and if it did, how is he dealing with it?

“Knowing Markus, he would still try to understand where Leo is coming from even to the point of shouldering the burden on his own.” Connor says, both as a remark to Josh and an answer to his own question.

Josh stops right as he’s reached the doors to manor’s entrance and turns around to face him, looking as if Connor has just said something unexpected but that makes a lot of sense.

“Yeah. You’re absolutely right.” Josh says, “You know, I just realized that it’ll do Markus a lot of good now that you’ve showed up.”

Connor cocks his head to the side, as if silently asking what Josh meant by it.

“I only came to the same conclusion that you did after weeks of talking it through with North and Simon. But you—” There’s a certain look of acceptance and approval in Josh’s eyes that wasn’t there before as he continues, “You perfectly understand that it’s just how Markus is. You obviously know him really well.”

For Connor, it feels like a validation. That he’s still worthy of Markus’ friendship, of his trust.

But. There it is again. The doubt. The guilt. A traitorous voice inside his head.

_ But you almost killed him, remember? _

Connor isn’t sure how he musters up the strength to force those negative thoughts and emotions down for the time being before it leads to him losing his composure altogether and have Josh pick up on his inner turmoil.

Thankfully, Josh takes Connor’s silence as his cue to turn back around as he heads inside the manor. After taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling it out, Connor follows suit.

The last two pieces of artworks—Carl’s and Markus’—have been conveniently covered and are propped up against the wall to the left, ready to be transported to the gallery.

Josh goes on to pick up the larger of the two, which leaves the other one to Connor. But as he lifts the smaller painting up, the string tied around it gets snagged on the corner of a table, a cage with two yellow canary birds inside on top of it.

The cover slips. And Connor freezes.

A broken-down fence can be seen at the edges of the painting. A large abandoned freighter at a distance, taking up a third of the canvas. The rising sun over the horizon with its rays unable to fully peak through due to the cloudy sky. And lastly, the light dusting of snowfall.

Immediately recognizing that it’s the exact scenery of the last time he and Markus had met up and talked before Markus left for his first mission, a myriad of emotions flood through him. There’s wistfulness and a bit of nostalgia, but mostly uncertainty and melancholy.

_ “When do you leave?” _

**_“At midnight.”_ **

_ “And you didn’t think to tell me earlier!?” _

**_“I would have if I could. You know I would. But they told me just yesterday…”_ **

_ A grip on his shoulder. Firm and warm. A reassuring smile. _

**_“Hey, you’ll be fine.”_ **

“Hey, you okay?”

Josh’s voice brings Connor back to the present and he immediately puts on a façade.

“Yes.”

But then Josh, with obvious concern on his face, nods his head to the painting. A few seconds of silence passes as Connor hesitates.

“I’m not very fond of winter.” He eventually admits without revealing more, noting how vulnerable his own voice just sounded.

“Bad memories? Or just the cold?” Josh asks.

Connor has always been averse to the cold ever since he was a child. But the day Markus left had been the first snowfall during that season. And he’d hated winter even more ever since.

“Both.” He answers.

A thoughtful look crosses Josh’s face and he seems to be contemplating how to best respond. Eventually, he says, “Well. Come winter time, if the cold’s particularly nasty, feel free to come over and we’ll whip you up something warm.”

The offer is quite unexpected, which makes Connor blink in surprise. But the thought is certainly not unwelcomed. He even allows himself to imagine hanging out with all of them while enjoying a hot mug of his favorite chocolate.

Such wishful thinking. But nevertheless, he appreciates the gesture.

“Thank you. That would be quite nice.” He says, lips quirking into a small smile.

He then squats down on the floor to properly wrap the cover around Markus’ painting back in place.

And as Josh patiently waits for him to finish, Connor feels conflicted. On one hand, he  _ does _ want the things being offered to him so far—a place where he can stay and belong, a sense of peace, and the chance of rekindling a friendship he’s always treasured the most.

But most of the people that he has interacted within the past few days don’t have any idea of who he really is and more specifically, what he was supposed to do the night he had been caught. Then again, it doesn’t really matter.

He won’t be here come winter time anyways.

* * *

Come midnight, Connor is dutifully going over his and Markus’ infiltration plans at the CyberLife Tower. Despite the limited resources and information that they have, they managed to hatch up something feasible enough after hours of thorough planning and discussion, which included Connor’s own suggestion of blowing up the tower.

Though Markus had not been entirely on board with the idea, he was willing to use it as a last resort or worse-case scenario back up plan. In the end, they had decided to stick with Markus’ initial idea of utilizing the stealth approach instead of going guns blazing.

Once they meet their objective—that is, to eliminate Amanda and Perkins, and possibly an ex-colleague or two who they might encounter, plus to destroy all data connected to Cypher—they should immediately proceed to the next phase, which is to escape the tower—hopefully unscathed.

Connor obviously doubts that’ll be the case as what they’re planning is essential a very high-risk mission.

And when Markus, face tight in worry with that little scowl of his, asked his opinion on their chance of success, he’d told him,  _ “There’s a high probability of failure, yes. But statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.” _

That had pulled one of those softer smiles that Connor had always been quite fond of and he couldn’t help but offer a similar smile back in return.

Anyway, there are still some details in their mission that needs to be smoothed out, which is what he’s working on at the moment. But Connor gets distracted by the sound of a door opening followed by rushed yet heavy footsteps.

He lets a few seconds tick by before getting off the bed and quietly going out of the room, just in time to catch a glimpse of Markus’ silhouette as he heads down the stairs. Taking a peek from the balcony, Connor eventually sees Markus entering the art studio.

He frowns.

A nightmare then.

When Markus would get plagued by nightmares in the past, he’d usually sneak off to the unfinished offshoot platform or to the abandoned buildings in the dead of the night, with a pencil and a few pieces of blank papers in hand. He wasn’t even given the liberty to have a sketchbook of his own.

During the times when Connor had been fortunately awake, he’d follow Markus and without disturbing him, would patiently wait for him to finish, knowing that it was Markus’ outlet and his own way of dealing with his nightmares. Sometimes, Connor would end up dozing off when Markus took too long.

Once Markus was done, he’d always show Connor the finished sketch—sometimes a full clear image, other times erratic pencil strokes—as he talked about his nightmare for the night. They’d chat for a few more minutes. And once Markus felt a little better, they would eventually sneak back in to the living quarters, but not before Markus ripped the sketch apart and they would both watch the torn-off pieces get swept away by the night wind.

Connor had always known that it was because Markus couldn’t keep any sort of evidence lest he be punished. But he’d much rather like to think of it as a symbolic gesture of Markus fighting back against these nightmares that frequently plague his sleep.

Knowing without a doubt that Markus is currently having a similar experience to what had been occurring in the past, Connor heads back to the guestroom to quickly retrieve The Fellowship of the Ring that he has yet to finish. Once he gets to the living room downstairs, he switches on the floor lamp situated near the window, its light casting a dim glow around the room. After making himself comfortable on the one-seater sofa, he continues reading where he left off as he waits for Markus.

* * *

Around an hour later, Connor looks up from the book as Markus finally emerges from the art studio. The open surprise on Markus’ face doesn’t quite mask the exhaustion and haunted look in his eyes. And Connor is left to wonder how bad Markus’ nightmare had been.

“Connor…” The initial surprise turns into a look of confusion as Markus asks, “What are you doing up so late?”

“You had a nightmare.”

Markus darts his eyes away for a moment, brows furrowing as if trying to recall something.

“You heard me come out of my room.” Connor nods, to which Markus is quick to apologize, “I should’ve been a lot quieter. Did I wake you up?”

Connor shakes his head in reassurance.

“No, it’s fine. I couldn’t sleep anyways. I was—” a subtle nod, a pointed look and eyebrows mildly raised, “—reading.”

The look he gets in return lets him know that Markus perfectly gets the message. They have come to an agreement not to talk about anything related to their plans where they might be overheard by Carl’s rather competent bodyguard.

Then, as if coming to the realization of why Connor is here and not back in the guestroom, Markus asks, “Were you…waiting for me?”

The uncertainty in the way Markus has just spoken somehow baffles Connor.

“Of course.” He replies, as a matter of fact, “We did always talk about—”

But then, what if he’s wrong? What if he made the mistake of assuming that Markus  _ still _ wants to talk to him about his nightmares? And he’s suddenly left feeling exposed, doubt clouding his mind.

“But you don’t have to tell me about it if you prefer not to—”

“No! That’s not it.” Markus cuts his rambling off, “I just didn’t think you’d…”

As Markus trails off, Connor suddenly finds himself unable to look away from those mismatched eyes. It’s that same look he got the other morning when Markus had to pull him out of being swallowed down by his own guilt. It’s a look that he’s been getting more frequently these past few days. And despite the dim lighting in the room—or perhaps due to the fact, Connor is unsure—there’s a certain intensity in Markus’ eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Maybe Markus is still reeling from his nightmare?

It frustrates Connor that despite how well he knows Markus, this is something he has yet to decipher.

The moment is eventually broken when Markus manages to compose himself, shaking his head as he goes over to the unoccupied sofa and plopping himself down onto it.

Connor puts down the book he’s holding onto the coffee table in front of him as he waits for Markus to open up.

“I dreamt about Phileas.” Markus says after a moment of silence, head bowed down and elbows propped on his thighs, arms hanging loose.

Oh… Connor frowns in worry. That explains the haunted look.

Phileas had been one of their peers back in the day. Much like Markus, he’d been among the few who never managed to fully accept the impossibility of breaking free from their confined lives. At one point, he’d had enough of it all and made the risky decision to escape, which led to a brutal punishment and… his death.

* * *

_ Connor just finished another round of target practice and despite not being quite satisfied with his results, decided to simply make up for it during the next session when he gets the chance to. Just as he was about to head out of the indoor shooting range, a facility-wide announcement ordering all trainees to gather at the training arena suddenly blasted through the speakers throughout the hallways. Outside the shooting range, he spotted two younger trainees wearing matching fearful looks on their faces. _

_ They need to work on repressing their emotions more. But they’re still young. They have years ahead of them to practice. _

_ He followed them to the training arena where most of the others were already present, with a remaining few trickling in after him. An ominous feeling settled deep in his gut as he wondered what had happened to warrant this gathering. _

_ In reflex, he automatically scanned the room in search for Markus, eventually spotting him on the opposite side, face blank but with a noticeable tension in his body. _

_ “What happened?” He overheard Traci quietly asking Chloe, some distance away to his left. _

_ “It’s Phileas. He tried to escape with Claire sometime after midnight.” _

_ “Tsk. He really is a stubborn idiot.” _

_ “The trainers were already onto them. It would have been only a matter of time before they were discovered anyways.” _

_ “They shouldn’t have given into their emotions in the first place.” Traci rebuked as she looked around, “Why gather all of us here?” _

_ “Punishment obviously. Of the worst kind.” Came Chloe’s reply, which had sent a chill running down Connor’s spine. _

_ Before Traci could ask Chloe to elaborate, the sound of several heavy footfalls snapped them all to attention. A group of armed men marched in towards the center of the arena, two of which were holding Phileas’ arms on each side. It was evident by his ragged appearance that he had already been beaten down—probably when he had been captured. _

_ Where was Claire though? _

_ Simultaneously, Amanda, whose presence had always screamed of power and authority entered through the balcony overlooking the arena, with her right-hand man, Perkins, trailing behind her. _

_ “You might be curious as to why I have you all gathered here this morning.” _

_ A pause. Her intimidating gaze sweeping across the room. _

_ “It seems that your peers, Phileas and Claire have broken two major rules of this facility.” She continued, voice louder and echoing throughout the whole arena, effectively making it clear to everyone as to the severity of the situation. _

_ “One, they have been discovered to have formed  _ **_quite_ ** _ an attachment, which I have constantly reminded against. And two, they have attempted to  _ **_leave_ ** _ this very place post-midnight.” Connor noted her non-usage of the word  _ **_escape_ ** _. “As punishment, Claire has already been executed—a bullet through the head, with Phileas as the witness.” _

_ Gasps were heard from the newer and younger ones, who quickly composed themselves when Amanda pinned them with a hard stare. _

_ The shattered look on Phileas’ face also made much more sense now, an involuntary flinch noticeable as he was probably reminded of the painful consequence for even desiring the freedom that had been cruelly taken away from them. _

_ Chloe’s warning from a few years back suddenly came to mind. She had always been right about that. _

_ Connor forced himself not to glance at either her or Markus, refusing to let the rising feeling of panic overtake him. _

_ They’ve been very careful. They won’t get caught. Besides, they never really bothered to entertain the idea of escaping. They’ll be alright. _

_ “And due to Phileas here,” Amanda gestured with her hand, “being the perpetrator of the attempt, I have decided on a different punishment for him—one that will both serve as a reminder for the rest of you and as a test of skills as well.” _

_ Reactions of curiosity and apprehension were prevalent at her statement with Connor himself feeling a mix of both. _

_ “Now then, would anyone want to volunteer as Phileas’ sparring partner for this round?” Amanda asked. _

_ Realization dawned on Phileas’ face as one of the armed men held out a combat knife to him, which Phileas gingerly took, sweeping his gaze among his peers while attempting to mask his nervousness as he waited for someone to walk forward. _

_ And as Connor pondered whether he should be volunteering or not, Zachary—a dark-skinned trainee who was a year older than him, stepped into the center of the arena. _

_ Connor had always found Zachary to be a master at keeping a blank face, tending to be cold and calculating during training, and preferring to work alone during group combat exercises even if they were supposed to be working together. Though he’s not the most-skilled of the lot, he’s still a force to be reckoned with. _

_ Phileas and Zachary first sized each other up before simultaneously making their first move. Zachary’s advantage over Phileas was evident due to the fact that the latter had already been roughened up. But Phileas was certainly putting up a good fight. _

_ As the match went on though, Phileas’ better fighting technique eventually provided him an opening and he managed to stab his knife through his opponent’s left thigh, causing Zachary to let out a shout of pain as he stumbled to the ground and leaving Phileas as the winner. _

_ But just as everyone in the vicinity seemed to think that it was over, Amanda’s voice rang through the training arena with a question of, “Who wants to volunteer next?” _

_ And it finally dawned on Connor what Amanda had intended all along. This wasn’t just a sparring match or a test of skill. This was Phileas’ punishment—to fight for his life to the death. _

_ By subtly looking around, Connor observed the same realization registering on everyone else’s mind. He eventually met Markus’ eyes, which were filled with anger, pity and fear. His hand was shaking as well, which he closed into a fist as he attempted to force his emotions down. _

_ If Markus had been horrified at what was currently happening, then Ralph most certainly felt the opposite. And if Zachary had a lot more control and hold over his own emotions, then Ralph tended to be the more unstable one. _

_ Interestingly enough, Amanda still decided to let him continue with the training program, for the reason that despite his erratic behavior, he’s terribly  _ **_good_ ** _ at what they were all supposed to be doing once they’re ready to go out to the field. _

_ Ralph felt no remorse when he ended up hurting his peers. He thrived in the violence of this place, as if it’s his comfort zone. It’s what made him dangerous. And despite the fact that Connor was inwardly hoping for Phileas to win, he doubted if Phileas could manage to survive this round. _

_ As the match began, it was obvious all at once that Phileas was already fatigued and Ralph made sure to capitalize on this advantage. But he didn’t immediately go for a fatal hit. He took his time—a slash to the arm, a nick to the back, a cut to the calf, as he slowly wore his opponent down. _

_ But Phileas persevered. _

_ No longer having the energy to utilize his technique, it seemed as if he was merely fighting back with all his grit and might, though he did manage to land a few hits of his own. And by some stroke of luck combined with Ralph’s overconfidence, Phileas managed to thrust the combat knife into the area just below Ralph’s collarbone. Though not fatally wounded, Ralph ultimately fell down on the arena floor after a scream of pain and Phileas won once again. But his victory was short-lived as he also collapsed to his knees due to his multiple wounds as well as in exhaustion. _

_ As Ralph was being carted off to the infirmary, Amanda’s sickeningly casual call for another volunteer was heard, as if she wasn’t orchestrating a death match in front of her. And surely, everyone knew at the back of their minds that this next fight would be Phileas’ last. It’s only a matter of who was  _ **_willing_ ** _ to deal the last blow. _

_ But Connor didn’t want to fight against someone who was already weakened and at a disadvantage. It didn’t…sit well with him. He couldn’t fathom how and why Phileas was still fighting a losing battle. _

_ Then again, if it had been himself… _

_ Maybe, just maybe… _

_ Phileas wanted to go out on his own terms. And he’d fight to his last breath if he had to. _

_ A subtle movement to his left eventually grabbed his attention. It was Traci, poised to walk forward and ready to end Phileas’ misery. But she suddenly halted in her tracks, disbelief written on her face. When Connor took a glance to where she had been looking, he was shocked to discover why. _

_ Markus was approaching the center, with purposeful and determined strides. But Connor is even more surprised when instead of a look of defeat, there was only relief on Phileas’ face as he got back up again and geared up for what was supposedly his final fight. _

_ But it didn’t make any sense to Connor. Why would Markus volunteer to do something like this? _

_ Even as Markus and Phileas began the match, with them sharing some sort of silent communication through their eyes and surprisingly putting up a good show and demonstration of skill and technique, Connor still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Markus was in that very arena and about to essentially execute one of their peers. It contradicted everything Markus stands for. _

_ But it wasn’t until Markus plunged the knife in his hand into Phileas’ gut, which looked to be a fatal wound, and seeing the look of acceptance on Phileas’ own face that Connor finally understood. _

_ Markus took it upon himself to give Phileas, at the very least, a much more respectable death than what the other trainees would have given him. _

_ Then, without Amanda noticing, Phileas had whispered something in Markus’ ear, before taking his final breath and eventually slumping down onto the ground as his life drained away. _

* * *

That had been Markus’ first kill and was also what had triggered the constant onslaught of nightmares for the next few weeks that had passed.

“How often do you get these nightmares now?” Connor asks, brows furrowed in concern.

Markus looks up at him for a moment, with the tiredness in his eyes starting to become quite apparent, before eventually deciding to lie down on the sofa and covering one arm over his eyes.

“There’s no set no pattern really. I haven’t had that nightmare in a long while. They’re mostly not as bad as they had been in the past. But sometimes—like tonight I guess, they hit hard when they do.” A short companionable silence passes between them before Markus asks, “What about you? Do you get nightmares too?”

“I didn’t use to.”

“Hmm?”

“After I allowed Kara and Alice to escape, I would get them the days and weeks following that. Sometimes it’s not being able to control my own body and having to go through the motions of firing a bullet each to their heads. Sometimes they still escape, but are immediately gunned down by Perkins’ men as I’m frozen and rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but watch them die in front of me.”

A shiver passes through Connor’s body as he recalls the times when he had struggled to calm himself down after waking up from those horrible dreams.

Markus lowers down his arm and turns to face him. And though his eyes are getting heavier with sleepiness, an unmistakable concern still shines through.

“Do you still get them recently?”

“Not as much. And not as visceral. Perhaps I simply got used to them.” Connor says with a shrug.

There’s a look in Markus’ mismatched orbs that says he can certainly relate. And then he faces up the ceiling once more and closes his eyes.

“Yeah, I get what you mean.”

The slight slur and lowered tone in his voice signaling that he might fall asleep soon.

Although the topic of their conversation is something that they can casually talk to each other about, Connor refuses to tell Markus of the worst nightmare he has experienced so far, just last night. It’s similar to the first one he has of Kara and Alice, with one stark difference—it had been Markus at the end of the gun’s barrel instead.

He’d woken up in a sweat, heartbeat running a mile a minute.

Connor leans his back against the sofa, tipping his head as he looks up and wonders if the nightmares will ever stop.

He utters the question aloud after a few minutes of staring and observing the abstract murals painted on the ceiling.

When he gets no answer in return, a quick glance at Markus lets him know that the other man has already fallen back asleep, breath evening out. And somehow, despite after going through a harrowing night, Markus still looks quite relaxed in his slumber, as if he’s just knocked out after a tiring day of preparation for the gallery event, or helping out at Rose’s farm, or even possibly running around chasing the kids at the playground.

And it suddenly hits Connor that he’s afraid of what the outcome of their mission might be. There’s a chance that they might not succeed, which could lead to their deaths. And although Connor has always been afraid of dying, never really understanding why—It’s quite ironic since his life has basically revolved around death—he comes to the realization that he fears the thought of Markus dying even more.

His own death will be of no consequence, although Markus will probably be saddened about it, right? But it’ll pass. He has Carl. He has his friends. They’ll be there for him, just like they’ve been in the past few years.

Connor can clearly see how important Markus is to them. If Markus was to die, then everyone one will be devastated and it will have been pointless to go on the mission in the first place.

After convincing himself that this is finally his chance at redemption for almost failing Markus, a chance at absolving his guilts, and a chance at doing something that will make a difference, Connor musters his resolve.

He can’t risk Markus dying. He just can’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zachary is the JB300 android who Connor interrogated at the Stratford Tower. Phileas is technically the android who transferred Jericho's location to Markus, but I sort of combined him with the unnamed android who begged Markus to deactivate him. Claire is the female unnamed android in the junkyard who begged Markus not to deactivate her.


	9. The Truth - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something unexpected happens, Markus loses his cool, and he finally decides to do the one thing he's always been afraid of doing.

The sunlight softly hitting his closed eyelids is the first thing that registers when Markus comes to awareness. The cramped feeling of how his body is positioned is the second thing he takes notice of. And as he blinks his bleary eyes open and waits for the grogginess that comes with waking up from a deep sleep to dissipate, Markus realizes that he’s done something that has never happened before—He has inadvertently slept in.

It should feel weird—getting up way past his normal waking hours and not even on his own bed, as if his body clock decided to suddenly break down altogether. But in all honesty, he feels oddly refreshed despite the fact that he fell asleep on the sofa. 

Just as he’s about to sit up, Markus is surprised to see something that he didn’t immediately notice a minute ago. There’s a blanket over him—more specifically, a blanket in different hues of cool blue with an abstract mosaic design, the same one he has seen in Connor’s room. 

It isn’t even a grand gesture or anything of the similar sort—just an act of thoughtfulness on Connor’s part. But that simple act is all it takes to render Markus powerless in stopping the sudden rush of emotions that he hasn’t felt in a long while.

Fondness. Yearning. Affection.

It’s one thing to be reminded of such a time when he’d felt those same emotions—when North had confronted him about it—and be in denial of the possibility that they might have resurfaced once again. It’s totally  _ another _ thing to have them hit him like a freight train right about this instant after assuming that they would have faded away over time.

He drops his head back onto the sofa in reluctant admittance that there’s no point in going on pretending that he doesn’t have an urge to take a hold of Connor’s hand when they go on their morning runs, when they pass each other in the manor’s hallway, or during lunches or dinners—preferably without Carl or any of his friends present.

He’s also become a lot more tactile in the recent years, after having gotten used to receiving hugs from the people who has come to care for him—even the kids, when he used to be deprived of any sort of physical affection for a long time ever since he was trapped in the facility until his days on the field.

And what he wouldn’t give so that he can offer Connor the same—to reassure him that he’s forgiven, that he’s welcomed here, that he’s so thankful for the fact that Connor had been there for him last night after having to relive the terrible nightmare of his first kill.

Or maybe he’s just craving a hug from Connor all the same.

And he refuses to go down further into the rabbit hole with thoughts of a more  _ intimate _ sort of affection.

The sigh he lets out sounds rather pitiable to his ears.

To be honest, he had thoughts on hinting about his budding feelings so many times in the past—back when it was forbidden, back during a time when he knew it was hopeless to want for such things. But he had to restrain himself, knowing that taking the risk for a chance at something other than being stuck in that wretched place wasn’t worth the repercussions that they might have faced.

* * *

_ Going through a variety of tactical combat exercises was fairly a common occurrence in their training regimen. Currently, it was a 3 vs 3 group exercise in which the first team to steal the opposing team’s flag wins and the reward is an extra free day. _

_ The arena was around the size of a basketball court, though a tad bigger, with multiple different-leveled platforms scattered throughout the area acting as a sort of an obstacle course for them to maneuver around. _

_ Everything was going normally—well, as normal as things could be in their situation. Markus had started off to a dash with the aim of reaching the other team’s base, intentionally avoiding Connor’s route. He’d already seen Connor making a beeline for his own team’s flag via his peripheral view. _

_ It was unfortunate that Connor was on the opposing team as Markus preferred it if they were working together. But it was an ongoing knowledge that any group which they were teamed up in would always end up as the winner. And so, they would usually be pitted against each other in most of the recent exercises. To balance out the field, as they said. _

_ Just as Markus had jumped up on top of one of the mid-level platforms, Jeremy’s—the lone Asian trainee of their bunch—loud call of warning grabbed his full attention. _

_ “Connor, watch out! Below you!” _

_ Markus swiveled around to see several things simultaneously happening. _

_ Both Connor and Zachary were on a much higher platform, with Connor attempting to get past the other. But Zachary was doing a good job of blocking Connor’s path which had them exchanging and equally dodging each other’s attacks. _

_ However, Connor failed to notice Traci’s sudden appearance beside the platform they were on. Jeremy’s warning came a second too late as Traci was too fast and because Connor was standing precariously by the edge, she ended up successfully knocking Connor’s leg off the platform. _

_ Though Connor was caught by surprise, he managed to pull Zachary down with him as a last resort, though it didn’t do anything to help cushion their fall and Markus was sure that Connor would be bruised again for days. Jeremy then quickly moved to take over for Connor, but Traci was there to intercept him. _

_ For a moment, Markus felt himself moving on autopilot with the thought of backing Connor up, ultimately forgetting that they currently weren’t on the same team. Fortunately though, catching a glimpse of movement by the corner of his eye served as a convenient and well-timed distraction for Markus. _

_ Chloe! _

_ He put his arms up in reflex to block an incoming high kick. But Chloe immediately found the momentum to knock him back against the platform behind him, while warning him in a harsh whisper, “Graff is watching!” _

_ And that successfully put his mind back into perspective. _

_ Shit! _

_ Jason Graff was a trainer who had been observing Markus—and possibly Connor as well—like a hawk after he almost caught them one time casually talking in the hallway that connects the living quarters and the training area. They luckily managed to pass it off by pretending to be taunting each other instead. _

_ With that thought, Markus forcefully pushed Chloe off him but it didn’t deter her at all. Instead, she grabbed his shoulders, jumped up and landed a hard kick onto his chest, using the momentum to springboard into a backflip, landing neatly on the ground and putting a distance between them. _

_ On the other hand, Markus felt his back slamming against the same platform he was just pinned onto earlier. _

_ At the back of his mind, Markus knew that they were supposed to act convincing enough with Graff’s eyes watching his every move. But damn. That fricking hurt. Chloe was obviously not holding back this time, with good reason. He only had himself to blame. _

_ Markus eventually pulled himself together, regaining his focus just in time to see Chloe charging towards him. He readied himself to parry whatever attack she might do. But she feinted and swerved to his left, jumping against one of the platform walls and landing on top of his shoulders this time. _

_ “Throw me off and get to the flag!” _

_ Well, that goes his and Chloe’s plan of having her team win to give Connor that extra free day. Plus, Markus had a guess that she might want one for herself as well. She’d had a rough time this week as she was preparing for her final evaluation, which meant she was bound to leave soon… _

_ Although it was against Markus to get Chloe hurt, it should be enough to wave off Graff’s suspicions for the time being. He tried to shake her off for show as she landed a few more hits of her own, until he gave her a signal. To which, Chloe braced herself for the impact as he did as she had instructed. _

_ In the end, Markus’ team did win. _

_ All that happened earlier in the afternoon. It was night time now and Chloe had wanted to meet up with him— _ **_to talk_ ** _. _

_ They were currently sitting atop of what used to be a truck container, their legs dangling off its side. _

_ “So um, thanks and… sorry for earlier. I know you wanted that extra free day.” Markus started, eyes darting to glance at the person beside him. _

_ “It’s not a big deal. The bruises will heal.” Chloe said offhandedly, but there seemed to be a concerned frown on her face. When she turned to fully look at him, it was the first time Markus had seen her letting her emotions come through that it definitely caught him off guard, as she had always been so closed off, “You can’t keep getting distracted like that, Markus. You have to stop giving them reasons and finding ways to incriminate you—and by extension, Connor as well.” _

_ He felt a painful squeeze inside his chest, knowing exactly what Chloe had meant. Similar to Connor, she tended to be very blunt in the way she speaks, though the natural melodic lilt in her voice somehow softened the delivery of whatever it was she was saying. But now, it did nothing to soften the blow. And it hurt, knowing it would have been all his fault if something bad were to happen, just because he wasn’t careful enough. _

_ “They’ll be giving me my first mission very soon.” Chloe continued, “And I’m not going to be here anymore to watch your backs and prevent you from slipping up.” _

_ “I know that.” _

_ Chloe’s lips turned down into a small frown. _

_ “Not enough to get through your head, considering what happened earlier. It’s better for both of you in the long run if you just let it go.” _

_ Markus turned his head away from her, eyes settling on the crescent moon that reminded him of a Cheshire cat’s smile up in the night sky. _

_ She was right. He knew that. But… Why can’t he be allowed even this? _

_ “We all go our separate ways when we leave this place—unless we get assigned joint missions, so you know that nothing’s going to come out of it anyways. You’re just asking for trouble if you keep this up.” _

_ Markus could hear the frustration entering her voice, evident by the slowly rising tone and how she seemed to be rushing her words now, as if she was getting desperate for him to  _ **_really_ ** _ listen to her. _

_ Feeling his own aggravation mounting, he jumped down from the container and started pacing, the squeezing sensation in his chest getting tighter and his breaths going faster. _

_ He needed Chloe to stop hounding on him before he snapped. _

_ “If Amanda finds outs, think about the consequence. Remember what happened to Claire and Phileas—” _

_ “I know what happened to them!” _

_ And snapped he did. _

_ The wooden crate he had ended up kicking with too much force lay broken into several pieces some distance away as it hit one of the metal frames. _

_ Markus whipped around and looked up at Chloe, fists clenched by his sides and body coiled tight in anger. _

_ “I killed Phileas with my own hands, didn’t I? So yeah, I know that!” _

_ Chloe was seemingly unfazed by his outburst, her face that was previously open with emotion closing off again with a guarded look. And as he felt himself deflate as if in defeat, he approached the container’s side and leaned back against it, eventually sliding down to the ground with his legs tucked and knees propped up. _

_ “I’m sorry. For raising my voice.” _

_ “It’s fine. I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Came Chloe’s reply from where she was still perched on top of the container. _

_ Markus stared at the wall across them, focusing on the odd shapes made by several missing bricks until he managed to finally compose himself. _

_ “No, you’re absolutely right.” He felt his face crumpling as he let out a long sigh, “It’s just not going to be easy pretending I don’t feel anything for him.” _

_ All the years of being trained to repress his emotions suddenly useless in the face of what he was feeling now. He’d initially chalked it up to mere infatuation. It would honestly be easier on his part if it were the case. But as the weeks passed, he came to the undeniable conclusion that it had been evolving into something more. _

_ Infatuation would mean he was attracted to Connor only on the physical sense—not that he didn’t find Connor attractive. But it was so much more than that. The constant  _ **_need_ ** _ to make sure that Connor was unhurt. His urge to escape steadily rising at the forefront of his mind—to get Connor out of this horrible place so that he could be free to live his life as he should. So no, it was definitely not just an infatuation. _

_ “Then think about it this way.” Markus tilted his head up to see Chloe looking down at him, “You end up protecting him and keeping him alive if you follow my advice. It’s not the ideal scenario of course. But we can both agree that the alternative is worse.” _

_ And it struck Markus that Chloe was right again. If he put that logic into his mindset and kept his emotions at bay, then it would ensure Connor’s safety. And the sacrifice would be worth it. He would just have to hope that the feelings eventually disappear. _

* * *

Again, he had been totally wrong on that end. But he’s allowed those things now and no one’s stopping him—well, except for himself. Although he knows that Connor does care for him, he’s certain that Connor doesn’t see it the same way he does for the other man. Connor has always registered his own emotions quite differently.

And Markus isn’t sure what’s worse—Accepting the fact that he wasn’t allowed to openly express his affection for someone he cares deeply about or having that freedom now but afraid to act due to the possibility of scaring that person away.

The sound of rolling wheels on the floor has Markus turning his head to the side to see Carl staring at him in unabashed amusement.

“Ah, finally cared to join the land of the living? Didn’t you tell me that you have a music lesson scheduled at 11? That’s—” Carl makes a point of glancing at his wristwatch, “in about 20 minutes.”

“Oh crap!”

Springing up in panic, he tries to untangle himself from the blanket and totally lets Carl off the hook when he makes a comment about Markus sleeping in. After he manages to get the uncooperative blanket off of him, he notices David, who is thankfully positioned behind Carl’s wheelchair, giving him a knowing look.

Right. David had helped set up Connor’s room.

Markus promptly returns it with his own look of  _ Don’t even think about mentioning this to Carl. _

Carl fails to notice the exchange as he is still having a good laugh over Markus’ rare moment of clumsiness.

He honestly doesn’t mind.

But he does need to freshen up and get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He’d rather not have to explain himself to Rose. She wouldn’t hold it against him for sure. But again, he prefers not to let her worry and fret over him.

After rushing off for a quick shower, he heads to the institute and arrives outside the music room at exactly a minute before eleven.

* * *

Markus meets up with Josh after their respective classes to grab a quick lunch at the institute lounge, with Josh telling Markus that North and Simon are planning an afternoon gaming session at HQ—as North had dubbed their humble abode, and that he had a sudden idea of inviting Connor over as well. However, Connor hasn’t replied to his message as of yet.

“Now that you’ve mentioned it, he hasn’t replied to mine as well.” Markus says, leaning back against his seat after finishing his last bite.

He’d sent Connor a message about an hour ago to thank him for the blanket and for accompanying him last night. And he’d meant to do it in person but David told him that Connor had already left the manor at an earlier time.

“Hmm…” Josh grabs his glass of water and takes a few gulps before setting it back down on the table, “You think he left his phone?”

“Possibly… Wait, let me try and call him.”

They head out of the lounge area as Markus makes the call, in the hopes that it gets answered. He vaguely hears Josh asking Jerry—who they pass on the hallway—if he’s seen Connor around. To which, Jerry replies in the negative. As they continue out of the building, the call unfortunately doesn’t get picked up.

Maybe he did leave his phone…

Though it bothers him, he puts it off for the meantime.

Once they reach HQ however, the uneasiness doesn’t leave him and he somehow gets more unsettled as the minutes pass.

North and Simon are playing what looks to be a fighting game on the console with North seemingly having too tight a grip on the controller and pressing the buttons with much more force than what Markus thinks is necessary. On the other hand, Simon looks as if his mind isn’t on the game at all, though the way his fingers are swiftly moving through the buttons proves otherwise.

“Hey, have you guys seen Connor today?” Josh asks as he gets behind the sofa and starts watching them with amused interest.

“Nope.” North replies without turning her head and keeping her focus on the game.

Similarly, Simon doesn’t take his eyes away from the screen as he simultaneously answers, “I was here the whole time so, no. Sorry. Have you tried—"

“Oh shit!” Simon gets cut off by North when she misses a critical combo and her character gets KO’d. She narrows her eyes at Simon and gives him a challenging glare, “I’ll get you back on the next round.”

“You’re on.” Simon quirks his lips up into small smirk. He then twists around to face Josh and Markus, “As I was saying, have you tried calling him?”

“Yeah, but he’s not answering.” Markus replies as he takes a seat on the unoccupied sofa.

“We think he might have left his phone.” Josh adds.

“Well, that’s a bummer.” North turns around as well while waiting for the screen to load and addresses her next question to Josh, “Why are you looking for him anyway?”

“Figured he might want to join in.” Josh gestures his head to the television screen in emphasis.

As North, Simon and Josh continue on with their conversation, Markus’ thoughts start drifting off.

If it was any other person, he would have easily gone along with it. But it’s Connor they’re talking about here. His brain is wired not to forget about simple things such as that. The same can be said for Markus. It’s innate in them to pay careful attention to every miniscule thing around them. Similarly, they’re also highly attuned to anything that might come off as suspicious. And right now, there’s a niggling feeling at the back of his mind that this is not a simple case of Connor forgetting to bring his phone with him.

With his friends’ attention now back on the game, Markus gets up from the sofa in agitation and tucks himself into a corner near the main door as he makes an urgent call. Once Adam picks up, Markus immediately asks if he’s spoken to Connor at all today.

_ “No man, sorry. But we’re still pushing through with the plan tonight?” _

The plan being Adam smuggling them out via a supposedly impromptu evening delivery to Greektown. Since Rose will be attending the gallery viewing as well and will be hitching a ride with Carl and David, it’s the perfect way for them to leave without rousing any suspicions.

“About that… Let me get back to you later.”

_ “Okay. Just let me know.” _

After a quick thanks to Adam, a call to David follows. And Markus’ anxiety grows by the minute when David informs him that Connor hasn’t returned to the manor.

No. He shouldn’t assume the worst just yet.

As a last resort, he decides to contact Allen. Markus isn’t at all comfortable at the thought of what he’s about to request Allen to do. But if it helps to alleviate his worry… Besides, it won’t be practical for him to scour the whole estate just to find Connor himself—that is,  _ if _ he’s actually  _ still _ within the premises. The possibility of which is looking to be quite slim to none. It’ll save him a lot of time if he can get Allen’s help.

A few seconds after dropping the call and staring at his phone, Markus realizes that the sounds from the television have stopped. He turns around to see the concerned look of his friends, with the game paused on the screen.

“What’s that about?” North asks, lips thinned into a small concerned frown.

“I asked Allen if he could have his team do a quick check and try to locate where Connor is.”

North blinks at him and momentarily pauses before her eyebrows smoothen out as her lips quirk up into a small smirk, “I know you’re both  _ close _ friends and all, but don’t you think that’s a bit obsessive? I mean, he might just want some time alone without anyone disturbing him.”

“North’s right, Markus.” Simon pipes in with a smile, “He’ll probably be back at the manor by sundown. So, just relax.”

Markus feels a bit indignant at his friends’ reactions. But he can’t exactly blame them.

“Look, I’m not being obsessive, okay?” For that, he gets leveled with a raised eyebrow from North, “I just have this really bad feeling that he might have actually left.”

North scoffs, “That’s impossible.”

“I would have to agree.” Josh says, “I mean, we know what he used to work as. But getting past  _ all _ of Allen’s security personnel? I don’t think he’s that good.”

It’s not that Markus thinks Connor is incapable of doing just that. He  _ did _ manage to get past them that fateful night. But now that the estate’s on high security alert, add the fact that it’s daytime, it would have taken a lot of maneuvering and focus on Connor’s part to successfully get past the tight security.

But before anyone could make any further remarks, Markus finally receives a return call from Allen. Getting to hear the confirmation that Connor is nowhere to be found inside the estate premises ultimately crushes him, though it isn’t unexpected. Even earlier, it had been the first thought that entered his mind. He just wanted to convince himself that it wasn’t the case.

_ “I’m sorry.” _ Allen tells him,  _ “He must have slipped past somehow. I’ll have my men make a thorough check. I’ll get back to you when we find something out.” _

“Okay, thanks… I—I’ll let Carl know.”

Allen cuts the call and Markus slowly lets his arm fall heavily to his side as he keeps his head bowed down.

Connor must have found a way somehow. It wouldn’t be impossible.

“So…I take it they didn’t find him?”

Markus lifts his head back up at Simon’s question.

“…No.”

But that doesn’t make any sense. They’re supposed to leave together tonight with Adam’s help. Once they find a temporary place to stay in, they’ll prepare and set up over the next few days. That was the plan. Unless…

“Okay, let’s forget for a second how he managed to get past the estate security. Why would he suddenly leave?” Josh asks as he extends his arms out in gesture, “Why forgo the protection he’s given?”

Unless Connor had a different plan along, that he didn’t want Markus to know. But it didn’t feel like Connor was keeping something behind his back during the past few days. Markus would know if he was. Was it a sudden decision? But Connor wouldn’t act so impulsively. Except. He’d once did. And that didn’t end quite well, at least in Markus’ perspective.

“Maybe he decided to get back at the one who set him up?” Simon offers a guess as he shrugs.

Would it be safe to think that this is something similar? That would mean Connor is planning to push through with  _ their _ mission alone. David still saw him earlier in the morning. Connor must have left when he was still asleep. But how? And, did he actually traverse on foot? That’s highly impractical. He must have utilized something else. But what?

Markus can’t think clearly right now with the rising dread that he’s feeling.

“Does he have a death wish or something?” North remarks rather harshly.

Additionally, he would have to assume that Connor plans on taking action tonight.

“Shit!”

A beat of silence as three heads turn to face him in surprise before Simon breaks it, “Did you just…?”

Markus blinks and takes one long look at his friends.

He can’t wait until tonight. He needs to leave now. If he does, he might still be able to find a way to catch up to Connor. It’s going to be a challenge as he’s technically going in blind, though the obvious end point will be the tower. But he hopes that he can intercept Connor before he gets there.

“I have to go.”

Sharply turning around, Markus moves towards the front door. But just as he reaches for the knob, he hears a hurried shuffling behind him, with North suddenly appearing at his side and proceeding to block his exit.

“Woah! Wait just one goddamn minute!” North puts up her hands in a stopping motion, “What do you mean  _ you have to go _ ? Go where exactly? You’re not even supposed to leave.”

“Which is why I’m going to talk to Carl first.”

“You think he’ll let you?” Markus turns back around to see Josh pinning him with a doubtful look.

“He’ll understand once I tell him about the situation.”

Actually, Markus isn’t sure about that. But he’s managed to convince Carl once. He can do it again. Hopefully.

“Wait, what? So you do know why Connor left.” Simon has also left the comfort of the sofa and is now making his way around towards where they’re starting to crowd together near the front door, “Does it have something to do with his former job?”

He should tread carefully here.

“Something like that.” Markus says as a vague reply.

“If that’s the case, why involve yourself? That’s his business if he wants to do something stupidly dangerous.” North snaps at him.

With a sudden flicker of irritation, Markus can’t stop himself from snapping back at her in return, “I’m not going to stay here and do nothing as he risks his life doing something  _ stupidly dangerous _ as you said.”

A look of obvious surprise crosses North’s face as she probably doesn’t expect him to be reacting the way he is now. But she is able to quickly recover from it as she counters, “And what are you planning to do? Risk your own life as well?”

“I can perfectly handle myself.”

This time around, it’s Simon and Josh who are taken aback, though they thankfully don’t comment on it. On the other hand, he seems to have pissed North off even more, if the deepening scowl on her face is anything to go by.

“Look, we don’t exactly know what sort of life you lived before you got here. And that’s fine with me. And if you say that you can handle yourself, I’ll take your word for it. But that’s not my point here.”

North’s voice goes up a notch at the last part and her initial frown is slowly morphing into something closer to frustrated worry.

Simon is nervously glancing between North and Markus while Josh looks like he simply wants to put a stop to the escalating argument happening in front of him. But before he can get a word in, North continues, “Are you even sure he told you the whole truth? The night of the ambush—You said that Allen and his team managed to take out everyone who was after Connor. That leaves no one to be interrogated for additional information nor possible witnesses. For all you know, he simply lied to you to get your sympathy.”

Markus is flabbergasted at the words being thoughtlessly thrown out by North, having no idea that she has been harboring these doubts about Connor all this while. Admittedly, Connor has been keeping to himself most of the time. But it’s rather unreasonable of her to make those baseless accusations. Though ironically and to be fair, they hadn’t been entirely honest about the whole thing either. But still…

“What if he got careless and got himself involved in a mess that he can’t handle? There’s a reason why he left without telling you.”

At this point, both Simon and Josh have begun trying their best in getting North to cease with her tirade.

“North, calm down!”

“You can’t just say things like that!”

But she totally ignores them.

“Maybe it’s for the best that you leave him be and just let it go—”

_ …It’s better for both of you in the long run if you just let it go. _

“That’s enough!”

His unexpected outburst effectively shuts everyone up as a tension-filled silence settles in the room. With his fists clenched at his side, Markus takes a deep breath to ensure that he doesn’t lose what little control he has left over his frayed emotions and looks North straight in the eyes, noting the emerging guilt in them as she comes to the realization that she might have gone overboard and crossed the line.

“I know you’ve been suspicious of Connor since he arrived here and I can understand that.” Markus ignores the tightness in his own voice as he continues, “But don’t you dare make accusations about things you know nothing of! You have no idea of the hell  _ we _ had to go through—"

A slip of the tongue. Another beat of silence. And then...

“We?” A hint of confusion tints North’s voice, which is similarly reflected by her knitted eyebrows, “I thought you said you didn’t see each other for years.”

With that, Markus suddenly feels wrung-out, with the urge to just curl back up on his bed and take a good long nap. But he can’t. For obvious reasons. He has a lot of problems to deal with right now. And he doesn’t even know where to properly begin solving them.

“That’s true. We didn’t…”

Equal expressions of relief settle on Simon and Josh’s faces as both Markus and North have started speaking in much softer tones now, a stark contrast to how they were almost at each other’s throats earlier.

North moves herself away from the door and decides to lean her weight against the windowpane nearby instead.

“What did you mean by that?” She asks, referring to his earlier Freudian slip, “What exactly happened between the two of you? Does this…have something to do with your past?”

Should he finally tell them? He really can’t waste any more time. But he feels unsettled at the thought of them coming up with more assumptions about Connor—and most likely now, about him as well—that are so far off from the truth. Albeit the truth isn’t any much better.

It’s ironic to think that he’s been avoiding this conversation for years, complacent at the thought that they didn’t care about who he had been in the past. But now that their curiosity has been piqued, combined with the convoluted mess that the cover-up story has brought forth, he suddenly finds himself willing to open up about it just to clear everything up and finally come clean. 

It would certainly lift a huge burden off his shoulders once he tells them. But the downside to that would be the possibility of his fears coming true—that they might turn away in disgust once they find out the whole truth. But then again, he’s not sure if he’ll get to return  _ alive _ anyways…

“North, we all agreed that we won’t force him to tell us if he doesn’t want to.”

Though Markus deems Josh’s reminder unnecessary at this point, he appreciates it nonetheless.

For a moment, it seems as if North is determined to get the answers she seeks, but she eventually backs down, crossing her arms in front of her and relaxing her stance, “Fine. But I still stand by my opinion that I don’t think it’s worth going out there and risking your own life.”

That settles it then.

“I’ll tell you guys everything then, if it helps to make you understand why I have to do this.”

His statement earns him varying reactions of surprise, with Simon recovering first and gearing up to listen, Josh seemingly wanting to say something—probably to reassure Markus that he doesn’t need to—but settles for remaining silent in the end, and North suddenly looking conflicted. Though Markus isn’t sure if it’s because she might not be ready for what she might get to hear or if it’s something else.

He’ll accept whatever their reactions might be afterwards. At least if he gets this off his chest, it’s one more step for him on moving on from his past. If they decide to still stick with him despite who he had been, then he can count himself lucky. If they don’t, then he only has himself to blame.

It will hurt to lose the friendships that he has come to treasure over the years. That’s how his life’s always been—to gain something and then to eventually lose them in the end. But if there’s one thing he won’t be able to bear and recover from, it would be having to lose Connor all over again. He’ll do everything he can this time to prevent that from happening.


	10. The Truth - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus' friends finally get to know the truth about his past and it seems that he isn't the only one with secrets after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It has been a difficult time right now so I hope everyone's still doing okay.
> 
> Before you go diving into the chapter, a quick disclaimer from yours truly: Please excuse the inaccurate depictions of hacking, FBI-stuff, national security-related stuff, etc. which you'll encounter in this chapter. But if you feel that some things are too farfetched to the point that it's silly to read even in a fictional setting, please do let me know. ^^;;
> 
> Alright, on to the chapter~

Revealing his past to his friends, Markus realizes, isn’t as difficult as he initially thought it would be. Much like what he has told Carl, he tells them the same—from the car accident to how he was taken to the facility, from meeting Connor—that story of their first encounter seems to always nab them the best reactions—to their days spent being trained in becoming cold hearted killers, the words flowing freely once he started and had a momentum going.

Knowing that he is pressed for time however, he decides to skip over a chunk of details that don’t matter at the moment, or that will invite even more questions that he can’t give just a simple answer to.

For the most part, they had remained silent—possibly in shock and disbelief at what they were hearing. It was easy to see in their expressions.

But by the time he got to the part where he was finished with his training and was sent out to the field, he refuses to meet their eyes, afraid of what he might find in them.

It had been one mission after another—assassinating targets as he was ordered to. There was no escape from it. He never saw Connor during those years as they were never assigned any joint missions, so he never really knew what happened to him.

Over time, he’d forced himself to become numb to it, detaching himself from reality and accepting the fact that he was going to be stuck in that never-ending cycle of hell for the rest of his life. It was the only way he could stop the guilt from clawing in and eating him up.

There were times when he’d entertain the temptation of killing himself just to put an end to it. But he’d always been scared to pull the trigger. He could kill someone at point blank because he was ordered to. But when it came to having a choice at taking his own life, he could never do it. He was a coward.

He pauses, as if to take a break and recover from the onslaught of emotions at having to dig up and recall those painful memories.

“Markus…” He nervously takes a glance at Josh, who has taken a seat at the sofa’s armrest, a hopeful sense of relief flooding him as he sees no judgement in his friend’s eyes, only sadness and sympathy. It takes Josh a few attempts at trying to come up with something to say as evident with the way he is randomly opening and closing his mouth, “But the fact that you’re here now means you were able to get away from all that, right?”

Markus would question some of his missions back then, especially if the targets were those who seemed to have just been at the wrong place, at the wrong time and had attracted the ire of a client. But it only got him looks of disapproval and warnings of insubordination. He knew they were carefully monitoring him, waiting for the moment when he would finally break and slip up. It would give them a valid reason to get rid of him.

And that window of opportunity came when he was assigned a mission to eliminate a cop who knew too much and someone wanted him dead. In hindsight, if it wasn’t for the cop’s son who woke up and had been looking for his father, maybe that night would have ended differently.

But as it happened, it became the catalyst for him to finally have the courage in deciding that enough is enough. He was about to make a child lose his father, who had been innocent and undeserving of the target painted on his back. He knew how it felt to be an orphan. He wasn’t about to make this child go through the same thing.

Unfortunately, the ambush team had been ready. They had given him the mission with the assumption that he would end up disobeying the directive. He’d managed to help the cop and his son escape away to safety but he had gotten shot in the midst of protecting them.

He did his best to take them down alone despite the obvious disadvantage. And although he couldn’t exactly remember everything that had happened after that, with his vision getting blurry due to his injuries and exhaustion, he did recall the chase leading to a junkyard.  And just when he thought it was finally over—that he managed to finish them all off and survived the ambush, he realized too late that he had made a fatal error by missing out on one.

At that moment, he knew it was the end for him. It would have been a meaningful death, at the very least. And with that final thought, he succumbed to unconsciousness. 

“But then I woke up to a room full of paintings on the wall, my wounds all healed up. And now here I am, falsely clinging to the hope that I’m free from their grasp.”

He never really knew how he managed to escape the jaws of death and ended up at the doctor’s care. Perhaps it’s one of those things that will remain an unsolved mystery to him.

A heavy silence fills the room as he finishes and gives his friends a moment to take everything in.

“That’s why you can’t leave.” Simon eventually says, looking up at him from where he is leaning against the back of the sofa, “They might be able to track you down.”

“Well, they did track me down. That’s why Connor was here that night.”

A shock of realization settles on Simon’s face, “They sent him to kill you… Shit! That’s just all sorts of twisted. You’re his friend.”

“But he obviously didn’t do it.” Josh says and Markus waits for him to piece things together, “That’s why he was ambushed.”

“Not exactly for that reason.” He explains, “They discovered him covering up a mission he was previously tasked to do because he refused to kill the targets. So they sent in an ambush team to take him out, presumably once he killed me. But I guess they didn’t bank on him not accomplishing his mission again. I ended up helping him take those men down.”

Eyebrows collectively raise in surprise and even North—whose jaw was clenched tight earlier as she listened to his story—is sporting an impressed look.

But then Josh’s expression shifts into something inquisitive as he voices out a question on his mind, “Why the fake story about Connor though?”

“It was Carl’s idea. That way, it wouldn’t make people too wary of Connor and…” Markus lowers his head and continues in a much quieter tone, “you guys wouldn’t have to learn about my past. But that’s all a moot point now, I guess.”

“Markus,” The firmness in North’s voice makes him look back up to see a contrasting softness in her eyes that he doesn’t get to see very often, “Did you think we would look at you differently because of who you had been then?”

“I killed people, North.”

“You were forced to.” She counters, “There are a lot of hired guns out there who don’t give a shit about the lives they take. Only the money. And maybe even the thrill of it. But not you. That’s the difference.”

The confidence and sureness in her words should already be enough to soothe his worries.

“But still…” The constant feeling of guilt and reminder of how it had been so easy for him to take someone’s life stops him from doing so, “I made you guys think I’m someone who I’m not.”

“What? You mean the Markus that shows how much he cares for the kids enough to spend some time playing with them, sharing with them his gift for the arts?” Josh interjects in obvious disagreement, “The Markus that goes along with all of our teasing, even the crazy bets, and takes them in stride? The Markus that offers a helping hand whenever he can and tries to put a smile on everyone’s faces when he himself is actually suffering alone? I’m pretty sure that’s the real you. You just didn’t have a chance to do all that before.”

Markus is struck speechless by the sincerity in Josh’s words.

“They’re right, you know.” Simon adds, “I can’t even begin to think how you kept yourself together over the years. I honestly had some guesses as to what happened to you. But what you just told us was totally way beyond what I had in mind. And I understand why you couldn’t tell us before. Sometimes, we’re just not comfortable in letting people know about the bad times and ugly side in our lives, even to those who are close to us.”

Simon’s subtle glance at North tells Markus that Simon does know whatever it is that had happened to her. That’s understandable. They’re best friends.

But he doesn’t dwell on it for long as he’s suddenly hit with the realization that his friends are not turning away in disgust or looking at him with judgement in their eyes. And he feels an overwhelming sense of gratefulness and relief, enough to let tears almost well up in his eyes. But he quickly blinks them away. One emotional outburst for the day is enough.

“You guys… I honestly don’t know what to say. I thought I would have lost three friends by now.”

“Stop being too dramatic Markus.” North says, her lips quirking up into a small teasing smirk.

And that successfully breaks the somber mood as they all let out a small laugh.

“Look, we may not be able to fully understand what you’ve gone through.” Josh says, “But we’re here if you need someone to talk to. You don’t have to keep everything to yourself anymore.”

Markus allows a smile to tug on his lips, “Thanks. That means a lot.”

North decides to move away from the windowpane and starts heading to the kitchen.

“Okay. So now that everything’s been cleared up,” She opens up the fridge in search for probably something to drink, “what was Connor’s plan exactly?”

“Actually… The plan was that we were supposed to sneak out tonight—” North stops mid-reach into the fridge and snaps her head up to his direction, “when Carl, David, and Rose are at the gallery viewing.”

That earns him looks of disapproval from the three.

“Do you want to give Carl a heart attack?” North exasperatedly reprimands him.

“I—”

Markus looks down, ashamed at himself for not even taking into consideration how his sudden disappearance might affect Carl. He knows that North is just exaggerating and that Carl is nowhere in danger of experiencing one but she successfully gets her point across.

He lifts his head back up and says, “I just don’t want to keep hiding like this anymore. And I may have been able to live normally this way for the past few years, but I doubt Connor will want the same. Besides, with both of us being hunted down, we can’t stay here anyways. It’ll just put everyone’s lives at risk.”

North mulls over his explanation for a moment before letting out a huff as she comes to hesitantly accept that he has a point. After which, she finally decides on what drink to grab for herself and asks if they wanted one as well.

Markus declines as he’s not particularly thirsty at the moment.

Simon and Josh do get curious as to how he and Connor had been planning to sneak out and once he tells them, Simon can’t help but ask, “How did you get Adam to agree? I mean, that’ll get him in trouble for sure.”

“It was suggested that Adam could make the excuse that Connor threatened him at gunpoint.” Markus says as his mouth twists into a small frown when he recalls how he was very much against that idea, “I refused, but Connor insisted.”

“To be frankly honest, that’s a lot more believable than having you threatening Adam instead.” North remarks as she walks over and hands Simon and Josh their respective drinks.

“Well, that’s why I lost the argument.”

Belatedly, Markus realizes he sounds rather sulky and North looks as if she has something more to say, but eventually decides to hold off on it when Simon beats her to it, “So, where’s this facility located?”

“In Ferndale. But their base of operations is in Belle Isle.”

“Belle Isle…” There’s a crease forming between Josh’s brows, eyes darting around until he seems to have successfully called something to mind, “Isn’t that where the CyberLife Tower is?”

“Yes.” Markus nods.

“Wait. The two of you were planning to attack CyberLife Tower!?”

“Infiltrate.” He corrects North.

“CyberLife is involved in this?” Disbelief can be heard in Josh’s voice.

“Not CyberLife itself.” Markus clarifies as he tells them about Cypher, about Amanda Stern—who she really is and how she’s been using CyberLife as a cover-up and source of funds ever since she managed to gain a board position in the company, “We were only planning to take her out, destroy all data related to Cypher and safely escape.”

“Who would have thought…” Josh crosses his arms, disappointment evident in his expression.

“You know of her?” North asks.

“Yeah. She’s well-known in the R&D field, what with her intelligence and contributions to the studies. A lot of people look up to her, hoping to reach what she has achieved—Markus?”

Markus then notices that he has his fists clenched tightly and his body is taut with tension, leading them to look at him worriedly. Josh must have realized the cause and quickly made to apologize.

“It’s fine Josh. Don’t worry about it.” He reassures his friend while releasing the tension in his body.

If there’s one life he’d willingly end, it would be hers.

“You think you’ll get there in time?”

North’s question comes as a thankful distraction.

Yes, as long as he gets to Belle Isle before nightfall. But it suddenly occurs to him that Connor would have yet to acquire the necessary gear.

That’s it!

“Connor won’t head straight to the tower. He still has to get the gear he needs.”

“Did he tell you where? Maybe you can catch up to him there before he gets to Belle Isle.” North says, catching on to his sudden hopeful enthusiasm.

But it ultimately gets dashed to the ground as he lets out a frustrated noise and starts pacing around.

“What’s wrong?” Josh asks.

“He told me he knew someone who could help us get the gear we need—an ex-FBI agent who’s an acquaintance of his.”

“Huh. What’s the problem then?” North asks and he stops his pacing to face her.

“I never asked him where.” She pins him with a stare that looks halfway between unimpressed and exasperated, “I know. I know. That was careless of me.”

“Wait. Did you at least get this person’s name?” Simon pipes in.

North rolls her eyes as she turns to Simon, “How’s a name going to help Markus if he doesn’t know where to find him?”

“I can try to pin his location.” Simon offers, though the upward intonation at that last word makes it seem like he is unsure if he should be putting it out there.

North narrows her eyes at Simon in confusion, “How exactly are you going to do that?”

Simon takes one long look at the three of them before he eventually says, “By hacking into the FBI’s database.”

Josh and North gape at Simon in surprise as Markus asks, “You can do that?”

Simon shrugs, “I’ve worked a few confidential jobs for the FBI—”

“You what!?” North obviously has no idea about this and Simon winces as he turns to her with an apologetic look, “You never told me.”

“I did say it was confidential.”

“Then why are you telling us now?” North counters, still sporting an offended look on her face for having a secret kept from her by her best friend.

“Uh… this seemed like a good time? I mean, if I can help Markus out, why not? Besides, it’s not like you guys are gonna sell me out, right?”

They all immediately take to reassuring Simon that they wouldn’t, though North gives Simon a look that says,  _ we’re not done here _ .

Markus is aware that Simon’s programming skills are top-notch, so it’s no surprise that his friend could be dabbing in hacking jobs every now and then. What he doesn’t expect is for Simon to have actually taken jobs from the FBI.

He does understand why Simon kept it to himself though. He would have been privy to confidential and sensitive information that it would put him at risk if someone with malicious intent finds out. Seems like they all have secrets of their own.

And although Markus is ultimately grateful for Simon’s offer of help, he’s worried about the repercussions his friend might face if he gets discovered.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry. I know how to cover my tracks.” Simon says, one side of his mouth quirking up into a small, confident smile.

“Alright, if you say so. How long will it take you?”

“I’m familiar with their cybersecurity framework so it won’t take too long. Give me an hour max.”

That’s enough time for him to talk to Carl and to probably borrow some gear.

“Okay. In the meantime, I’ll head back to the manor and have a chat with Carl. Thanks for offering to help.”

“That’s what friends do, right?” Simon looks to each of them, with North and Josh mildly shaking their heads fondly.

Markus supposes that’s true.

“So, who’s this ex-agent that we’re supposed to track and find?” Simon asks.

“Hank Anderson.”

* * *

“I suppose I should have seen it coming.”

When Markus walked into the manor to tell a worried Carl what had happened, how he felt about the whole situation and what he was planning to do, he had been expecting a much longer discussion or argument to take place, and to be reprimanded for coming up with such a reckless plan when he was advised otherwise just a few days back.

What he doesn’t expect is for Carl to simply let out a heavy sigh as the older man stares at him with eyes that seem to convey a resigned acceptance at what he has just been told, though there’s an unmistakable look of sadness and regret to go with it.

“When I took you in five years ago, you were so lost. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to pull you out from the lethargy and meaninglessness you had fallen into back then. But when you finally did—when you found a new purpose and started to smile and see the light of hope again, I was happy for you. However—” Carl pauses as a crease appears between his brows, “as I came to observe and know you better over the years, I noticed that even though you seem to be content with your new life here, something seems to be missing that I can’t quite put my finger on. And now I finally know what it is.”

Markus shouldn’t be surprised that Carl has noticed something about him that he himself was never really aware of. Then again, Carl has always had this uncanny ability to see right through him.

“You were always so wary of your past. It’s like a shadow constantly looming over you that you wanted so badly to get rid of, but were  unable to. If one were to look carefully, they would be able to perceive that the smiles you let everyone see don’t really match the haunted look that’s usually reflected in your eyes.”

And now that Carl has mentioned it, he’s absolutely right. Markus can recall the many times he has tried to stamp down any feeling of envy and bitterness whenever his friends get to freely hangout at Greektown or some other place. A lot of his sketches are of a person or an animal trying to break free from something. One of his more recent paintings were of hands trapped in several chains. Anything that might have a relation to his past can easily trigger nightmares and the occasional anxiety attacks.

“But after Connor showed up, he seemed to have ignited something in you. There’s now a fire in your eyes that I’ve never seen before. I hear the conviction and determination in your words—as if you’re finally ready to cast aside that shadow and no one can stop you from doing so. Which is why I won’t stop you. Not anymore.”

“Carl…” Markus is floored. The older man has managed to sum up everything he is feeling and going through and is choosing to let Markus take a chance at facing his past in the hopes that he can finally move on from it, “Thank you.”

“I understand that this is something you need to do.” Carl leans forward a little, eyes imploring Markus to take heed as to what he was about to say next, “But you must promise me one thing, Markus. You have to come back alive. Both of you.”

Markus gives him a firm nod, “We will.”

Carl stares at him for another moment and once he seems to be satisfied with what he sees in Markus’ eyes, he relaxes and leans back again comfortably on his wheelchair.

“One more thing. Have you told your friends?” Carl asks.

“Yes, they already know everything.”

Carl smiles and gives him an approving nod, “That was very brave of you.”

Markus returns it with a smile of his own and excuses himself as he heads up to his room to go and get changed.

After a few minutes of browsing through his closet, he manages to pull together something functional enough for whatever action he might get thrust into much later. And as he turns to the full-length mirror, it feels a bit jarring to see himself decked out in something closely resembling his usual mission garb in the past—a leather jacket over a dark shirt, jeans and a pair of combat boots. He’s technically going on a mission, but it’s not a mission given as an order. It’s finally a mission that he’s doing for himself and for the people he cares for.

And with that thought, he heads back out of his room.

As Markus walks across the hallway, he passes by Connor’s room. Pausing and taking a glance at the door, he debates whether or not he should take a look inside. In the end, he finds his feet leading him towards the room, rather than away from it.

Upon entering, he finds that nothing seems to be out of place. There are no telltale signs that Connor had been planning to leave. The room still looked as sparse as it had been when Connor first arrived—understandably—since he’s been here for just a few days. But somehow, it leaves a hollow feeling in his chest, not knowing whether Connor would still choose to say once everything’s over.

He shakes the feeling away. Now’s not the time to worry about that.

He approaches the nightstand and spots The Fellowship of the Ring on top of it, a tiny paper carefully tucked in between its pages, signifying where Connor has last stopped reading. Beside the book lays his phone that he decided to leave behind.

Markus picks it up and as the phone lights up, he sees two message notifications and the battery indication at 51%. He pockets the phone, hoping to hand it back to Connor when they meet up again.

Once he gets back downstairs, he’s not expecting to see both Simon and North in the living room, with Simon sitting on the sofa, deep in concentration on his laptop, though the crease between his brows lets Markus know that he probably hasn’t any luck yet with locating this Hank Anderson. North has a similar frown on her face as she stays behind the sofa while watching Simon work.

They do turn their heads at the sound of his footsteps and the door sliding open, both freezing as they can’t help but take notice of the change in his getup.

With North raising an eyebrow and seemingly appraising him from head to toe, Markus suddenly feels a tad self-conscious.

He lets out a hesitant chuckle, “What?”

“Lovin’ the badass look. You should wear something like this more often.” North says as one corner of her lips quirks up into a smile.

Markus doubts he will, shaking his head fondly as he approaches the two.

“So, found anything yet?”

“Well, hacking into the database was the easy part.” Simon lets out a small huff as he leans back on the sofa and plops his arms on his sides in frustration, “Trying to find available information on your ex-agent is not.”

When Markus asks why, North is the one to answer.

“Well, turns out this guy was a highly decorated black op operative so most of the information about him is kept confidential, even to those who have access to the database. How did Connor even find this guy?” She asks as a remark rather than an outright question.

Markus remembers Connor mentioning that Hank had ended up saving his life after a botched mission left him losing too much blood and he would have bled out to death if Hank hadn’t spotted him out of pure coincidence.

He shudders at the thought that Connor had almost died.

Returning his focus back to the situation in hand, Markus stares at the laptop screen, where Hank’s photo can be seen. And true to what Simon said, there are several lines of redacted information, with some sections tagged and labeled as confidential.

But now that they at least  _ know _ what he looks like…

“Is there a way you can hack into their facial recognition system?”

Simon glances up at him and Markus can almost hear the cogwheels turning in his brain when he suddenly sits bolt upright and dives right back in on his laptop as he opens up a new command window with several complicated lines of code.

“What? What is it?” North asks in a frantic confusion as she doesn’t immediately catch on.

“Since we have his photo, we can use their facial recognition system to try and find a match via security camera feeds, which the FBI obviously has access to.” Simon explains, “Hopefully, we can find something recent and that could narrow down our search as to where we can locate him.”

“What the hell, Simon? How do you know how to do all this!?”

Markus shares North’s sentiments. He only made the suggestion as a possible alternative, not really expecting Simon to immediately jump onto his idea. But if it works, then it’s all good.

“Well, when some of your clients hire you to build their cybersecurity measures, you tend to gain knowledge about these things.” Simon tells her, eyes not leaving the screen for even a second.

“Are you  _ really _ sure this won’t get you in trouble?”

“Relax North. I told you I know how to cover my tracks.”

“Fine.” North huffs as she crosses her arms, “But I gotta tell you guys, I’ve had enough surprises for one day.”

And just as Simon informs them that it’ll take him a little while longer, David comes in carrying two large suitcases, which he proceeds to set down on the dining table. He opens them up to reveal a selection of weaponry for Markus’ perusal.

“Carl said you might need them.” David says with a sweeping gesture.

After thanking David, Markus goes over to check the various handguns and notices North and Simon—who has paused at what he’s doing—discreetly staring at him by the corner of his eye. Eventually finding something to his liking, he settles for the Beretta M9 and takes an extra gun as an added precautionary measure.

While picking up some extra magazines, it’s just then that Markus notices Carl’s absence. When he asks, David tells him that the older man is currently on a call.

Oh, probably someone from the art gallery.

As he’s strapping down a knife to his boot, North approaches him and leans along the edge of the table, picking up and examining one of the handguns. After a moment, she puts it back down and turns to look at him with a conflicted emotion on her face.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Markus asks as he stands back up.

She hesitates for a moment before taking a deep breath, “I—”

“Hey guys! I found something.”

She flinches in surprise and darts her eyes to Simon’s direction before looking back at him.

“Later then.”

They both walk back towards where Simon is, with Markus wondering what North was supposed to tell him.

North perches herself on top of the armrest and Markus stands behind the sofa, resting his elbows on top of the cushioned back as he looks over at what Simon has discovered.

“I managed to find two security feed matches within the range of these past two weeks.”

Simon plays the first one where Hank can be seen coming out of a liquor store and Markus is taken aback with how much different he looks compared to his photo. Though the video isn’t of high quality, it is evident that this man looks quite grizzled and seems to have a heavy and slower gait for someone of his caliber. Then again, he’s essentially retired.

For a few seconds, Hank scans his surroundings with a watchful eye. He then turns to discreetly head into an alleyway.

At least his senses are still on alert. But that means…

“Where did he go?” North asks.

Simon fast-forwards the feed but Hank doesn’t reappear.

“Dunno. What the…?”

“He’s being careful.” North and Simon turn to listen to him as he continues with his explanation, “He’s aware that the security cameras can still capture his face, but he obviously knows which detour to take to avoid them.”

“You’re saying he’s familiar with the area.” Realization dawns on North as she catches on to his point and concludes, “Which means it’s possible he might be living somewhere near the store.”

Markus nods. But it could still just be a way to mislead anyone who’s potentially searching for him. Just to be sure, he turns to Simon and asks, “What about the other feed?”

Simon plays the second one and this time, it’s of Hank coming out of an establishment named Jimmy’s Bar. Similar to the first one, he manages to avoid being tracked after he disappears into a corner of a smaller street.

Opening a separate map on screen, Simon enters the coordinates based on the where the feeds were captured, “This bar and the liquor store are both in McDougall Hunt and they seem to be located just a few blocks away from each other.”

“But it still doesn’t tell us where he lives or where Markus can actually find him.” North pipes in.

“I can search further back, but it’s gonna take some more time.”

Markus takes a quick glance at the wall clock to see that the one-hour allowance he has allotted is almost up.

“No, I should be leaving now. This is a good start for me to work with.” He says, “Thanks for help, Simon. I owe you a big one.”

He just hopes someone from the bar or the liquor store will be willing to divulge the information he needs.

“I can still continue searching for a better lead while you’re on the way. Just make sure to keep your phone on.”

Well, there’s that. Worse comes to worst, he’ll just have to go with the riskier plan.

“That won’t be necessary.”

They all turn around as Carl announces his presence while he wheels himself into the room.

“Your friends here told me you’re attempting to find a certain Hank Anderson.”

Markus briefly glances at the two before replying, “Yes, although we can’t pin his exact location.”

“Here.” Carl clears his throat as Markus reaches out to take the small piece of paper being offered to him.

What he sees written on it ultimately takes him by surprise.

_ Hank Anderson _   
_ 115 Michigan Drive _   
_ McDougall Hunt, Detroit _

Markus snaps his head back to face Carl, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“How did you—? You know this person?”

“No. But apparently my friend does.” Carl replies, “Or at least knows of him.”

“Your friend?”

“Yes, the very same person who asked me to take you under my protection.”

Oh. Markus recalls Carl mentioning about an off-the-grid doctor who made the request. Is she the one Carl had been talking to on the phone a bit earlier?

“You mean the doctor?”

“Well, she technically brought you to me. But no.” Carl takes a deep breath and Markus unexpectedly sees a mix of hesitation and guilt appearing in the older man’s eyes, “You will have to forgive me for keeping this from you, Markus.”

Still confused as to what’s going on, Markus asks, “What are you talking about?”

“This friend of mine—it’s Elijah Kamski.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Hank's address, I thought that the one mentioned in the game is a real street address. But when I searched it in Google Maps, it doesn't exist. Lol. So I just came up with a fictional address that's based on the real map of Detroit combined with the in-game one and located strategically for plot purposes in this story.
> 
> As an additional personal message: For those that are able to stay or work from home, please keep yourselves healthy (both physical and mentally). And for the frontliners who need to go out and work, we salute you!
> 
> See you in the next chapter~

**Author's Note:**

> \- A big thanks to WhimsicalGoat for helping me beta read and fixing some errors I've overlooked. Go check out her stories if you haven't. They're great! :D
> 
> \- Comments are very much welcomed if you'd like to let me know what you think so far.
> 
> \- And as always, thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed! <3


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